


Love is a Four Letter Word

by Korpuskat



Series: Amor Fati [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Brief Subspace, Cunnilingus, DFAB but gender neutral reader, Dom!Kylo obviously, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Force Sex, Force-Sensitive!Reader, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo is bad at talking about his feelings :(, Loss of Virginity, Marking, Masturbation, NOT Bloodline compliant, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Overstimulation, Periodplay, Pre Concurrent and Post TFA, Riding Crops, Rough Sex, Scratching, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Vibrators, bisexual!reader, blowjob, collaring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-05-19 12:25:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 116,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5967364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korpuskat/pseuds/Korpuskat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were just a translator for the First Order. Good at your job, but otherwise quite plain and unmemorable. At least, you were, until you got the attentions of Kylo Ren. And now you're kind of in his bed. </p><p>Reader/Kylo Ren, begins pre-TFA. Mostly unrepentant smut after some exposition. Tags are listed for work as whole, individuals chapters have their own tags list & ratings inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue [Gen]

**Author's Note:**

> Why must I require this much background for an excuse to write smut?? The world may never know.

 

In the First Order there is little room for error. From the most meaningless of technicians to the Supreme Leader himself, every move to restore the Empire’s power is to be done precisely. Your existence, in this way, was rather the ultimate proof that no system could ever be quite perfect. 

You were a translator for the Order, like your father before you under the Empire. Not because you were forced into this line of work; you honestly tended to be very good at it. It was an archaic job, honestly, but in translation there are many subtleties that a cross-lingual dictionary or droid can miss. Emphasizing particular syllables can give a different meaning that doesn’t quite translate into Basic. Even the smallest shifts in body language (different through cultures and species, of course) was an easy read. You were always keen on picking up these slight meanings- the exact meanings. In fact, you tended to be able to tell exactly what a person meant to say- especially if you were under stress, you always managed to get your best work done under a deadline.

Which was rather the problem. Before, you had worked on various Imperial-era star destroyers, lower-class ships as a translator. But typically your role was reduced to dignified secretary- few destroyers really needed a translator, most of the time if they intercepted something they’d pass it up the chain of command. How in the stars you got reassigned to the _Finalizer_ was beyond your belief.

The entire base was massive- dizzyingly large in comparison to any Order ship you’d ever boarded. Gone were a few hundred, maybe even a thousand rooms. The entire base had entirely different sectors for each branch of command. It was, of course, inevitable you would get lost. It was probably also inevitable to meet the base’s resident Force user. However, you hadn’t planned on meeting him while you were so anxious (being lost, being late, being new, the list goes on) you nearly shook under your uniform. 

And then you saw him. All long black cloak and sleek black armor. Had he been more graceful and less aggressive he would’ve made a grand impersonation of a shadow moving through the corridor. Instead he seemed more like a tidal wave, his cape floating in his wake- troopers and ensigns alike all took to the sides of the hallway away from him. It seemed only the General was brave enough to stand at the Knight’s side, but even the redheaded man was not with him today. Everyone else had heard the tales of his rage, of the reckless need for destruction he would unleash upon anyone near him if he was in a bad enough mood. Nobody wanted to be the next story’s subject.

You were entranced. On instinct you moved away, but kept your eyes on the blank mask he wore. Even without his face you could almost feel irritation coming off him in waves, feel it in the way he walked, how he carried himself. You were curious. All at once he stopped. Just stopped, there in the hallway, and turned, his cloak floating around him. Underneath that blank mask you could feel his eyes boring into you- hot coals betraying whatever flame burning in him. And suddenly you really weren’t curious anymore, you just really, really wanted to go back to your old crew and translate boring messages about various Drall medical shipments. 

His long legs made it to you in only two strides, demanding your name, your rank. Your voice felt foreign in your throat as you told him. Now you could really feel it- a cautiously girded irritation with growing curiosity, perhaps a touch of confusion on him. You couldn't even tell where you got this impression from, but it felt so brightly pressed to your mind you couldn’t ignore it.

For a moment you could feel it- feel the foreign sensation of thoughts that _weren’t yours_ , like a hand groping around inside your head. Your own memories floating past, unbidden, making you gasp and recoil from the black mask. But as quickly as you’d felt it he was gone from your mind, leaving a strange empty feeling in his wake.

“Follow me.” A modulated voice intoned. You had expected him to either accept your identification and leave or kill you where you stood, but certainly not whatever was happening now. With little choice, you obeyed.

 

 

A simple blood test (and some less simple, weirder tests of knowledge and skills) revealed what years of highly regulated, ordered society had missed. He made it sound so simple, like this was some change to your wardrobe and not being completely thrust into a separate life. Under his tone you could feel his irritation, mostly not directed at you- more at the impossible series of small errors that allowed your existence, and by all means the flaw in the system that you were even still alive. Still, irritation in Kylo Ren’s tone at all was never, ever a good thing.

“Force-Sensitives in the Order are typically found before adolescence.” He continued, and you wondered what his face looked like under that black helmet. What his irritated voice sounded like beneath the modulator. “If they prove useful and cooperative they are trained.” 

“To become a Knight.” You concluded. The fact that there were so few of the Knights of Ren and how large the Empire’s range had been was not lost on you. Most of the children found to be sensitive did not survive, whether that be from training or conditioning.

“Yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You, however, are possibly the _weakest_ person I have ever met who could still be called Force Sensitive.” You cringed, visibly- averting your eyes from the black sheen of his mask. “Even if you _weren’t_ too old to be properly trained, the Order cannot allow any Force Sensitive persons to fall into the hands of the New Republic.” 

Well, that didn’t leave many options for you, did it? Was now the time to start pleading for your life or had that already passed? You bit back apprehension and forced whatever plea would fall from your mouth. “S-Sir, my father worked for the Empire, I would never…” 

“Relax.” You doubted the word was laced with actually influential power, but you tried to obey it anyway. “I shall train you myself. You will report directly and _only_ to me in this function. Otherwise, you will continue your post as a translator.”

His mask was as blank as ever, but you couldn’t help trying to read the face beneath. Whatever power you had to feel the emotions of people around you was being shut out- the entire room felt cold and empty without the background noise of someone else’s feelings. “Sir...?”

“You’re dismissed.”


	2. Accidental [Mature?] [Naked Cuddles]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from 30 Days of NSFW challenge:  
> "Cuddles (Naked)"
> 
> Features violence against the reader (Force choking) and Kylo Ren's complete inability to sit and discuss something.

How exactly you went from part-time translator/part-time apprentice to full-time sleeping in Kylo Ren’s bed was a bit of a mystery to you. 

Not to say you were quite complaining. Kylo Ren was mysterious and held a secretive, magical power. Everyone on the base was, in fact, curious about him (his origins, his abilities, what he looked like under that mask). But as it was Ren wasn’t one for sharing, and being near him ran the risk of being his next casualty. But as his apprentice, you couldn’t really avoid him any more. 

It began with General Hux being increasingly irritated in your absence from your post. You had been transferred to his ship, and here you were, off doing someone else’s work. Of course, having Kylo Ren vouch for you went a long way in diverting the General’s wrath. But diverting his wrath would not solve the issue-- you were supposed to be a valued member of his team and having you be absent at odd hours proved unfavorable. Even worse was after you began really training. It was, in short, a secret to your superiors as to why, exactly you were being excused by Lord Ren. The most obvious rumor that circulated back to your desk was that you were fucking him. And considering the mysterious bruises you’d gained from your daily meetings with Kylo Ren, you couldn’t blame them for thinking that. 

You had of course denied this- as you would’ve denied any rumor, no matter how scandalous. But secretly, you were rather flattered at the idea. 

After only three days of training no matter how much you slept you felt as though you’d tried to fight a Star Destroyer with only your fists. For the few hours Hux did have your attentions, you were horribly sore- physically and mentally exhausted well beyond any normal point of fatigue. When you weren’t aching and sore you felt awful for making such a horrid first impression to someone as important as the General. How you made it through the day without passing out was a miracle. 

“I am well aware Ren will have need of you soon,” The General’s clipped tone brought you back to the present. “However, this document must be translated in full before you are dismissed.” 

“But, Sir-” The level stare that was returned to caused any protest to die in your throat. At least Lord Ren would kill you quickly with his saber. You had the distinct feeling if you overtly failed the General your death would be much less swift. Quietly you acquiesced. “Yes, Sir.” 

 

 

 

You ended up more than an hour late to your training. Anxiety wracked your body, unsure if your master would excuse tardiness due to his co-commander’s demands. By the time you had worked up the courage to actually enter the training room your hands were visibly shaking. 

You weren’t really sure what to expect. You’d had enough time to imagine a hundred different ways Lord Ren could kill you, a hundred different ways to explain how, oh, disappointed he was. You were moderately sure the training room-- a bare, empty room designed for simple combat physical rehearsal-- would be torn to shreds. Maybe the destruction would have extended into the hallway. But the lack of visible damage, corpses, or fleeing bystanders discredited this idea. Against any survival instincts, you opened the door and stepped inside. 

As it turned out, there was no damage to the room at all. Instead, Kylo Ren in all his dark robes was seated near the center, his back towards the doorway. You stood there for a moment, unsure if he was aware you had entered. Unsure if he was even breathing from how still he was. Still like the forest around a predator. You swallowed and took a step towards him. Your mouth opened to apologize or to greet, but you could find no words. Instead, he rose from his position. He did not face you as he spoke.

“You are late and I am not a patient man.” And then he was everywhere. Pure, unadulterated terror laced through you. His presence in the air was thicker than any physical object could hope to be. He filled the room like a blanket settling over every surface, smothering you with his weight.

“I-I’m sorry, Sir I-”

He spun on his heel- his hand shot up curled as though grasping something. And then you _really_ couldn’t breathe. On instinct you tried to raise a hand to your neck, but you were paralyzed (a quiet logical voice somewhere reminded you that there wasn’t anything physically constricting your throat-- there was nothing you could do to remove this obstruction even if you could move anyway). This was how many people had died. Staring into the black void of where a man’s face should be while they choked on nothing at all.

A rapid, rabid beating in your chest reminded you that you were still alive (for the moment), that this was all much, much too real. You could feel the moment he pried at your head- like an icepick chipping away at your skull, wiggling around behind your eye socket. A whine welled up in your chest, but you had no air to voice it. Your eyes pricked with tears, your vision blurring and growing dark. Your ears rung with the white noise of either Kylo Ren’s intrusion or the lack of oxygen to your brain.

Behind it all you could barely make out the modified voice from the mask: “Why are you so _special_.” The pain in your neck spiked, “So fucking _unique_. Tell me. Tell me!” 

And then you were gone.

 

 

 

The first thing you were aware of was the quality of the sheets. A very fine count, you supposed. The pillows were less pleasing- seemingly standard issue- but the slide of the sheets against your legs felt divine. If you were in, well, any sort of afterlife you would’ve guessed they’d have better pillows than what the First Order stocked. 

It was then, of course, your cognitive processes kicked in and, in horror, you realized you were not in your quarters. Not in _your_ quarters. Not in your _clothes_. Med bay, maybe? Wasn’t it procedure to get patients into gowns? Stars, your throat hurt-- hadn’t…? A sense of dread settled over you. Forcing your eyes to open only confirmed the fear. These were definitely not your quarters. 

You sat up and observed the room-- it was notably larger than yours and from what you could see reflected that it absolutely must be a very high ranking officer’s. The dread settled in your stomach and you could nearly feel the color drain from your face. The bedroom was nearly bare. The bed was large and flanked by two unadorned nightstands. A closet displayed black clothing. To one side of the room was the door to, what you supposed was, the refresher. A door opposite the refresher likely led to a, well, “sitting” room. A third door was opposite the bed, locked with a large, oppressive numerical lock.

And there, sitting across from you, next to the locked door was a man you’d never seen before. At least not like this. It was glaringly obvious who he was, but you weren’t quite sure how you’d made it to this point. He was not in his regular uniform-- gone were the intimidating black robes and armor. Instead the man before you looked… smaller. He was still ridiculously tall with long limbs and a muscular build, but he seemed more human now. 

He wore only the black body suit that fit under his chosen armor, an outfit that was shockingly mundane on him. But more pressing than his lack of a suit was his lack of a helmet. It took you a full second before realizing you were actually looking at his face. Young, you realized. Young and so…. normal looking. Handsome, even. Attractive in a way you would never be able to quite explain to anyone. Dark eyes that reflected more emotion than you were able to read from him using your powers. With eyes like those you could imagine why he’d wear a helmet.

And even as you observed him he did not move, just stared back at you from across the room. You wanted to open your mouth and say, well, anything- ask why you were here and not the med bay, or, really why you were alive at all. But for the moment you could only meet his gaze, wordlessly watching one another. As you worked up the nerve to speak first, finally settling on questioning if you could leave, he stood- looking just as tall and intimidating as he did in his robes and mask-- and entered the room across from the door. You noted idly he completely bypassed the lock. 

It was entirely possible he’d heard your thoughts- about whether or not you could leave. Was that supposed to be his way of answering you? You moved towards the side of the bed, eager to find your clothes and rid yourself of whatever awkward situation you’d managed to find your way into. You swung your legs over the side and-

_stay_

and your toes touched the carpet. A chill ran down your spine. He’d never called to you before- not like that. It was… indescribable in its natural wrongness. It was bad having him in your head- the foreign feeling of someone else’s hands in your mind- but to hear his voice as clearly as if he was actually in the same room? You would’ve considered yourself crazy if he hadn’t proven before he could manipulate some invisible, magical energy. 

You looked to your feet, pushed a toe over the carpet to feel the texture- the slight burn of the friction. You’d already disappointed him once today, but that… didn’t sound like an order. You knew what his voice sounded like when he was ordering someone. That was-- a request. If you left right now he wouldn’t stop you. But something akin to curiosity had settled under his request. 

Against your better judgement you laid your head down again. 

 

 

 

When you woke again the lights had been turned off- the entire room swallowed by the blackness of shadow. You moved to sit up again but- an unfamiliar weight hung over your side. Hot air on your neck. Your upper body lifted slightly, supporting yourself on your elbow. You turned, already aware of what situation you were in. From the angle alone you couldn’t see his face, but you could see the pale skin of his arm around your waist, the shape of his body under the black sheets- pressed close to yours. 

You had the distinct feeling he was perfectly awake. His breathing was even, he certainly wasn’t moving. You could cast your mind out to see for sure if he was or was not conscious, but you coudn’t quite find it in you to do that. He’d know of course-- fuck, he probably already was hearing this train of thought. 

Neither of you moved. Your back began to ache from the odd angle you held yourself at. What was this? He made no effort to move or to keep you in place, so what was this? Why? He’d asked you to stay before- was this some sort of-- test? No, he wouldn’t bring you to his own room for some lesson on the moralities of the Force. You supposed you had a choice, that’s what this was. Just as before, if you got up and left-- well, you’d have to physically remove his arm from your side, but-- if you got up and left you would be okay. You could go on as if this particular day had never happened. 

You could practically see it-- you could even convince Lord Ren to discontinue your apprenticeship- you were, after all, not very skilled and wholly untrained. Your only real power appeared to be the instinctive reading of others’ emotions. That was very valuable as a translator, and it was obviously distressing Hux (and by extension, his immediate staff) to have his leading linguistic asset missing. Without your training with Ren you would be back up to full power in no time- you’d be wonderfully healthy and aware of your surroundings. Wouldn’t that be nice, to get away from whatever paradigm shift the would-be Sith had forced onto your simple life? You laid a hand on Master Ren’s wrist- you could move out from under it and he wouldn’t even fight you...

You closed your eyes and sighed. You didn’t really want that. You had discovered more about yourself in the few days you’d spent under Master Ren’s tutelage than you had in years of your life. You had a special power and the only other person on the ship who could remotely understand that now was sharing a bed with you. Was pressed close to your back so you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

Besides any necessity for learning to use your skills, the fact remained. If you left you would never, ever know more about the man behind the mask. Curiosity and the cat, you supposed. At least you’d have lived a more interesting life than most of the poor souls who walked the halls of the _Finalizer_.

For the second time that night, you laid your head down again.


	3. Sharing [Mature][Naked Kissing]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from 30 Days of NSFW challenge:  
> "Kissing (Naked)"
> 
> In the morning, Kylo does his best to explain his behavior.

A fluttering sensation on your neck and the distinct feeling of being _too warm_ woke you. You mumbled softly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You wondered vaguely how much time you had before your morning alarm went off. The fluttering sensation continued, but more solid- hot lips pressing against and tracing over your neck. The fact you were very naked (and so was your bed partner, judging from the recognizable warm pressure on your lower back) did nothing to explain to needy kisses against your shoulders.

You half opened your eyes and rolled onto your back- towards the man behind you. Dark eyes outlined with dark rings met yours, pupils wide with, well, probably lust-- his already plush lips slightly pinker from his assault on your neck. How long had he been at it before you woke? A hand- large, slightly calloused- found its way to your ribcage- tracing down your side, reverently counting each bone that protected you from harm.

He leaned down, almost hesitant for how softly the kiss started. You closed your eyes into the touch- let the feeling of his lips on yours wash over you. He broke away for only a moment, returning with a new vigor- moving his lips rhythmically until he began to suck on your lower lip. A quiet hum of pleasure He moved, then- the hand on your ribs adjusting to the mattress to support his weight as he shifted himself over you. 

You laid a hand on his chest- putting enough pressure to urge him to back off. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in bedding Kylo Ren- sensuality seemed to roll off him, especially like this. But there was something very wrong here, something you didn’t understand. It made no sense for him to try and kill you just to turn around and try to bed you. 

He leaned back on his heels, allowing you to pull yourself up to a half sitting position. If he was embarrassed by his flushed and very attentive erection, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked more… confused? His brow was scrunched slightly- head tilted. Watching you. Waiting for something, something you didn't have the alertness to give him. Instead, you cast your mind out to him then- just as he’d begun to teach you---.

His emotions pour over you, nearly violent in their intensity: _lustdesireangercuriositylustlonelinessimpatienceaffec-_

You gasped as he forcefully shut you out- nearly cold as you returned to only your own thoughts, a single set of emotions. Irritation returned to his face and he moved away- moved to sit on the edge of the bed so his long legs were planted firmly. He rested his head in his hands- you took the moment to admire his back- flat plane of skin interrupted only by the shifting of bones and muscle beneath. Covered with scars. You’d expected as much, but it was entirely different to see the small lines littered over the pale skin.

You reached for him- mentally. Not ‘digging’ as you had, just allowing his own thoughts to float towards you. The irritation he felt was directed inwards- thought he had failed at something. What? Seducing you?

You swallowed your anticipation. “What… is this?” 

His hair swayed as he looked over his shoulder. His gaze was guarded, but at length he spoke. “A mistake.” Quieter: “It must be false...” 

Without the voice modulator he sounded as young as he looked, but whatever pleasant feeling you may have had about his voice was washed away by whatever insult he had just paid you. Your own offense overtook any better sense you had, “The fuck does that mean?”

He shook his head, standing and collecting a robe.

“You can’t just-- Look, you tried to kill me, then you wanted to fuck me, what- what the fuck is going on here?” 

If his hair wasn’t already a bedraggled mess, it would’ve been for how quickly he spun to face you. Rage- _passion_ lit his gaze. A foreign power pulled you towards him- raising you to your knees on the bed- his hands grasped each side of your face- fingers digging into your chin, your scalp- you grabbed at his wrists, tried to pull him off. He forced you into a bruising kiss. 

And then, you felt it- not like the hand rifling through your mind, but instead something else pushing into your mind. He wanted to show you something-- he could’ve forced the thought into your head, just as he had spoken to you last night. But again this was a choice he had presented to you. You let your weak defenses down.

Bright, vivid images flashed into your head- you gasped and tried to pull away, from his mouth, from the intensity- but he wouldn’t let go of you, allowing his tongue to slide into your mouth as you processed what you were seeing. His tongue sliding over the roof of your mouth and you shivered- 

You were in the hallway where you first saw him. His head was full of the buzzing of other people’s thoughts- obnoxiously loud, a continued test of skill, maintaining that sense. Not like you, not like the primitive emotional impressions you received, but full, uncensored thoughts of everyone around him. He saw you, paid you no mind, until he realized he _didn’t_ hear you- your little corner of the hallway was so silent.

His teeth caught your lip, sinking in enough to sting. 

In the hallway he was forcing his way into your head now. You had thought the memories he drew from you were random, but from this angle you could see it- he was looking for your training. Was looking for if you were a Jedi spy. But he found no barriers in your mind, no recollections of any mental training. Instead he simply found… you. 

The messages are blurry, unclear. He’s only getting impressions rather than what you truly remembered. Even then, he can’t seem to find what you’re thinking at that instant- only memories of thoughts and feelings. It’s… a unique sensation, he decides on. That he can’t read you, not without forcing his way in- and even then it’s not complete. 

Curious. Afraid, of rejection, of new places, of people, of him? Stubborn but not unwilling to lay a tactical retreat. Affectionate. Confident in your skills, but a little worried you would disappoint. So, so lonely. All your previous friends were on a Star Destroyer halfway across the Galaxy, busy with their lives without you.

Even trained Force-users cannot resist his methods forever. He’s fully capable of reading the other Knights and they had been specifically trained to hide their thoughts (from the enemy, but more importantly from Snoke). Yet here you are, a weak barely aware _translator_ , and you resisted him? Even when you had begun to meditate with him, to focus on feeling the Force he could not read your thoughts unless you projected them at him. How? How did something as utterly normal as you wind up like this?

A hand wound its way up your neck, gathering a handful of hair to forcibly angle your mouth upwards-

Now, the world was blurred and out of focus, like a dream-- _A vision through the Force_ he corrects-- He’s in his armor. Black mask and robes matted with freshly spilled blood. His lightsaber crackling in his palm, lighting up the ruined battleground. You stand beside him, blood splatters covering your skin as well. He turns to you, strokes your jaw, your chin. If he didn’t have his mask on he would kiss you. He thinks you look beautiful like this.

You wrench yourself from his grasp, finally. Your fingers curl in his sheets, stare up into the overhead lights, try to remember to breathe. You’re in the present again, in Kylo Ren’s bedroom. This is real, you tell yourself. This is real.

“A strong connection to the Force allows us to see things,” He tells you. “Things that have not yet happened.”

You can’t meet his eyes yet. “The future,” This is real, you repeat.

“Yes. Does that scare you?” He sounds so strangely impassive, disconnected from whether or not you truly felt fear. But of course, he was used to simply knowing people’s entire lives- entirely disconnected from them. This was just his roundabout way of knowing what was going on in your head.

You don’t answer him that, yeah, it did. “Is it always right?” 

“Not always, the future can be changed. We see likely outcomes from our choices.” He moves closer, “but they are never so clear as that.” His hand returns to your ribs, “It will happen, I am sure of it.” The hand trailed down your side, below your belly, to the top of your thigh-- “We will rule the galaxy together.”

Too much-- You scrambled away again, nearly falling off the far side of the bed. “I can’t, I can’t, I---” you shook yourself, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes until you saw stars. “I can’t do- do this right now, this is too much, too much. I’m sorry, I just--” This was absolutely insane. The last few days had been a fever dream, that’s all. It has to be, there’s no way. Absolutely no way. He was playing some trick, some colossal joke. 

The noise of fabric moving made you peek out from behind your fingers. A uniform, freshly laundered, and in your size was placed in front of you. You looked up to meet Kylo’s eyes, try to read his expression, but he was already moving back towards his closet, retrieving his undersuit and armor. With little else to do, you got dressed, taking your time to look presentable after your hectic, what, twelve, sixteen hours? You leaned on the doorway to the sitting room. Over the course of a week your entire life had been upended. How did this happen.

From behind you, Kylo spoke- indifferent, factual. “Hux is looking for you.” 

A glance confirmed he wasn't even looking at you, focused instead on fastening all the clasps to his chosen outfit. “I should go,” You replied, more to yourself than him. But without any sign of protest from him, you left to try and piece together what you were supposed to do now.


	4. Privacy [Explicit][Masturbation + Force Sex]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from 30 Days of NSFW challenge:  
> "Masturbation" and " ~~Skype~~ Force Sex"  
>  Mentions of Mitaka/Reader, Phasma/Reader, and Hux/Reader. 
> 
> it's Sin Time™ kiddos ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
>  
> 
> You need a moment of peace in this storm, but doesn't quite go as you wanted it to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO. YOU GUYS ARE SO NICE. Thank you to EVERYONE who commented and kudos'd, you helped me fight to write this mess :'D

You managed to keep your mind entirely blank in the walk to your command center. You chose to count your steps, listen to the sound of other people’s conversations, do literally anything except consider what had happened.

You arrived late to your station, as expected. With the sudden stress of, well, literally anything regarding your future and the relief of a good night’s sleep, you threw yourself into your work. Unfinished messages were completed, questions of context responded to, all tasks- even those marked of the lowest priority- were rewritten into Basic and handed off to your superiors. When those were completed you asked for any other assignments that needed to be done- anything that could be delegated to you. Anything at all to keep your mind from thinking about what you’d seen in Lord Ren’s mind.

Hux was, of course, pleased with this change of events- you didn’t even need to read him to judge that. He’d never tell you such, but the cessation of withering glances at your general area was indication enough of your success. But just as it had on your previous Destroyer, there was only so much work to be done for a translator. You needed something, anything to keep your hands busy. But… there wasn’t anything left for you to do. You’d powered through your allotted meal time in favor of nothing having the idleness of eating. Not that you had much appetite at the moment from the way this uncertain stress was working at your well-shaken mind.

Instead you sat and fidgeted at your station as you watched the clock count down, organizing and reorganizing your desk rather than deal with anything. You were fairly sure you didn’t have the strength to face Kylo right now. You hadn’t even allowed yourself time to process what you’d seen- of course, you didn’t particularly _want_ to process what you’d seen. The implications alone were too heavy to bear; nevermind your personal relationship to the Knight, but the thought that you would ever, ever join him on a battlefield. Not that you weren’t battle-trained- you were a translator on a warship, after all. But you had never felt at home in the violence- you were a desk jockey at the end of the day. You were more familiar with the phrases to indicate hostilities or the proper ways to describe casualties and wounds rather than the reality of it. 

_He likes you bloodstained_ , you shuddered, recalling Kylo Ren’s emotion through his own head- his own future spark of arousal echoing through you. Before you could let _that_ thought wander you grounded yourself in the sound of uniform boots clicking towards you.

Hux addressed you formally and you felt a wavering touch of irritation. Nobody on this ship was ever happy, were they? Figures you’d be transferred here. “Ren has _informed_ me he has been tasked with a new assignment and will be unable to meet with you today.” He made no attempt to disguise his disdain for being treated as a messenger. You knew very well it would be all too easy for the General to make a comment about your relationship with Lord Ren, but instead he continued, though, slightly less contemptuous: “However, as it seems you have made up for your previous absences, you are released for the day.” 

You almost wanted to protest that you could and even wanted to stay, but something felt wrong. A new assignment? You weren’t sure what to think of that. You hurriedly thanked the General and wandered your way back to your quarters-- immediately missing the size and simplistic comfort of Lord Ren’s room. Your quarters were standard, of course. A small, arguably cramped room with only enough space for a single bed and a dresser. The luxuries of having very nice sheets and the room to stretch your legs wasn’t lost on you. And, maybe having a warm body in bed with you. Shit. Now you had to deal with it, right? There wasn’t anything to keep your hands occupied now.

You could probably go eat now, at least to give yourself something to do at all. Maybe strike up a conversation with someone new, finally make some introductions. And if you happened to start down the path of thinking of whatever weirdness you may or may not have encountered last night (and this morning) you would be in public. You couldn’t go breaking down crying or having a panic attack in public- your own shame would prevent that.

You sighed and settled onto your bed, sitting against the pillows. No, you had to deal with this sooner or later. At least here you could try to meditate on it and sort out what had happened and what to do next. You cleared your mind of anything not immediately related to the problem at hand and for how much it had been weighing on you, it was pretty easy. 

There probably wasn’t a right way to think about this, it wasn’t as straightforward as verb conjugation or finding the right synonym for a specific type of merchant. So, here it goes: 

Your Master, Kylo Ren, had noticed you because you were (“ _the weakest_ ”) Force-Sensitive with some innate talent to blocking him. Instead of killing you he decides to train you personally. Okay, got it. Good. 

And, then he’d had some Force-dream (“ _A vision through the Force_ ”) that you would, in the future, become… what? involved with him? And he had embraced the vision as simple as that? Maybe it was that simple- he was obviously more experienced in how the Force worked, how visions of the future were supposed to be interpreted. 

The future. You swallowed thickly around the idea that you would ever be anything more than a skilled translator. A future where you would walk a battlefield like you owned it, not as a terrified surveyor of destruction- probably even helped make it as bloodstained as it was. That Kylo Ren- one of the most feared, powerful, respected persons in the galaxy- would want you. That seemed the most out of place of the three, and yet you already had proof of its certainty.

You flushed at the memory of his pink cock- how it looked as he sat in front of you, how warm and heavy it felt against your back. That spark of arousal returned and you aggressively ignored it. Even if he wasn’t your superior officer and your Master, you really did not want to make this any worse. Or, die of embarrassment if he pried at a memory of your very reciprocated arousal from your mind.

Your nerves were already pretty well frayed, there was no way you could deal with a shock like that right now. You didn’t have the clarity of mind to think of a plan of action- if there was any action to be taken anyway. Honestly, on days like this you had your own way of dealing with the stress. Though, nothing you’d worked through before had ever quite approach this level of unbelievable. 

But, well… Judging from the quiet ache between your legs you were already on the right track. You could really use a moment of relaxation right now, you figure. So long as you kept your thoughts well, well away from Kylo Ren you should be okay.

With a steadying breath you relaxed your posture and closed your eyes. Who was a safe projection? Hmm, there was a lieutenant who had caught your eye more than once- close-cropped regulation hair, dark with dark eyes to match. Somewhat timid, liked the rules. He’d be very gentle, you think. Curious, eager to please maybe. He was young- you entertained the thought that he could even be a virgin. You let one hand trail over your chest, featherlight tracing down to a nipple. He’d stroke at your nipples, not quite pulling. Mmm, yes, like that… 

He’d kiss you softly, maybe even romantically, lips pliant against yours- you wanted to encourage him, show he’d done nothing wrong thus far. One of his hands would slide into your hair, a sharp tug at your roots so he could dip his tongue into your mouth- lips plush and wide- long hair brushing at your cheeks-- 

“Fuck,” You dropped your hands to your sides. The brief image of Kylo’s dark, haunted eyes in place of the lieutenant’s lingered. Okay, so, obviously that officer was too similar to the man you were absolutely not thinking about.

Forcing yourself to relax and conjure up another lover, you catalogued your coworkers which… proved harder than you’d initially thought. There wasn’t much time for fraternization among officers, and since you’d only arrived within the week… You sighed. Who was there that was attractive and looked nothing at all like your Master? You considered Captain Phasma, since she was physically nothing like him aside from being ridiculously tall. You’d seen her without her helmet as she had worked out one morning, and you could definitely find her attractive, with her elegant features and short, light hair. She was attractively built, slender but with well-defined muscles. But honestly, she was kind of scary. She seemed more like she could probably actually, physically break you with her bare hands not with some magical power like-

You cursed again. Stop it! How about- how about, Hux. Yeah, General Hux. He _hated_ Kylo, that alone should be enough to divert your thoughts away. You could imagine that he’d be rather offended if you thought of Kylo in bed, probably punish you (you flushed a little at that). You returned to the issue of the fact he was (well) above you in terms of rank, and you seemed to be forced to interact with him near daily. But at least he wasn’t knocking you out and kissing the daylights out of you. At least he wasn’t able to dig through your memories and see you touching yourself while thinking of him. 

So, you returned to your task. You imagined those piercing green eyes surveying you. A leather-covered hand tracing over your skin-- the leather catching and dragging between your breasts, over your belly, down below- barely stroking over your labia, just teasing. The texture of the glove only added to the weirdly attractive power imbalance the scenario provided. He dipped a finger into your wet heat, testing just how badly you wanted him. You could see him smirking- the same smug expression you’d seen briefly at the rumor of you and Ren---

You groaned, annoyed at your own mind. You know what. Fuck it. It’s his own damn fault and if he has some problem with you getting off to his own advances he can suck it up. This was about you finding a moment of peace from this ridiculous week. You closed your eyes and imagined again-- recalled what you’d seen in Kylo Ren’s bedroom, purposefully this time.

The feeling of his hand tracing over your ribs, falling lower and lower still. He’d touched your thigh briefly and you could very well imagine what it would feel like to have one hand on your thigh, holding your legs open so he could watch himself touch you. What would those large hands of his feel like, to have those long fingers sliding over your sensitive flesh. He’d just barely circle around your clit- your hips bucking against your own fingers. You could see him pull a pleased face at that- seeing you open and aching for him, for _his_ touch.

Your fingers slipped lower, just teasingly circling around your entrance, then sliding two fingers inside. You shuddered a sigh. You could imagine it, almost feel it. His fingers were wider than yours, and longer too, able to reach in and open you up like no one else could. You bit the back of your free hand to keep from moaning as you moved inside yourself. You think he’d like to hear you, would want to pull any sound he could from you. Want to make it so you couldn’t _stop_ from moaning, would want to hear you gasping his name--

You curled your fingers upward, pulling at that hidden spot while the heel of your palm brushed your clit. It was so good, so right- you could feel that pleasant pressure starting to build. Would he be kind and let you cum on his fingers, or would he leave you hanging, only to make you cum on his cock?

You were happy to have your hand blocking your mouth, groaning a muffled “ _Kylo,_ ” against your own skin. You certainly didn’t need to fan the flames of the current office scandal should anyone have heard you. You didn’t want to think about how it would sound to have Kylo moaning your name back at you. 

Instead, you returned to thinking of Kylo’s cock- it was, to say the least, proportional to the rest of him. Thick and long, arching up towards his stomach. You nearly removed your two fingers, only to slip in a third- happy to imagine the pleasant stretch was all his doing. You groaned against your hand again and-

 _I can hear you._

You froze-- nearly screamed, but managed to only sink your teeth into the back of your hand. In an instant, your head was full of the white noise of panic. You couldn’t move, every muscle locked in place from sheer terror, you weren’t even sure if your heart was still beating in your chest.

 _You were projecting,_ His voice (if you could call it that) sounded different- breathy- and, _need to show you…_

The image flooded your head- nearly forcibly this time. You hung halfway between his head and yours, weird fragments of physical sensation passing over to you along with what he was seeing. You couldn’t tell where he was, probably some non-descript hallway on the ship judging from the utterly unremarkable walls. The _Finalizer_ was full of them, and if someone saw Kylo Ren alone in one, they probably wouldn’t stick around.

But then his hands were lifting-- pulling his helmet off and dropping it with a heavy _thunk_. You could feel it then, how hot his face was, flushed with desire. He yanked off his gloves with trembling hands (you caught the brief sting of leather being removed too fast) and dropping them blindly. His gaze dropped down to his own robes, pulling aside layers and layers of black cloth until he could wrap his hand - oh, stars- 

Your arousal spiked, unable to prevent the resulting whine. Those same long fingers you’d imagined were wrapped around his cock- sliding over the slit where a touch of precum was already sliding down. He quickly licked a palm and began to stroke himself. It was the most erotic thing you could recall seeing- his hot, throbbing length and pale hands the only part of him you could see. You wanted to know, to know what he looked like when he touched himself-- he groaned, eyes falling shut as he tipped his head back against the wall.

 _Keep going_. You could feel him telling you his rhythm, the pace he set on himself. You could rationalize your actions to the fact he had ordered you later, instead allowing your fingers to meet his pace- a moan slipping by as you realize that, really, somewhere on this ship Kylo Ren was touching himself because of you-- your hips jerked and his hand moved faster- you matched his speed, curling your fingers upwards again to rub just the right way.

You couldn’t last long like this- you’d been worked up before this unexpected development and the psychological effect of watching him like this was overwhelming- not to mention the occasional ghost sensation of Kylo’s hand on his cock as though it were your own. Did he have the same feeling from you?

 _Touch your clit. Now._ The hand that had been muffling your voice immediately sought out that bundle of nerves, keeping pace with his hand-- the sensation almost too much to handle and- oh, by the Force- he was half thrusting into his hand- he upped his pace again and you _keened_ , panting just to keep up. The same feeling was welling up inside you again, you could feel that precipice approaching in a way you’d never felt before, not with only your own fingers. You had never been so completely wantonly turned on before, so utterly lost in your own pleasure and only able to focus on the physical sensations of two pairs of hands and the rough, deep sound of his voice as he groaned- loud and unashamed.

You bit your lip so hard you might’ve broken the skin, but right now you can’t tell. Your head was too full of the hot need approaching climax- fogged by the second set of sensations and needs that bled through as you can feel him losing his grip on the Force. A particularly hard stroke and you can’t stop yourself before you’re practically crying out in his mind: _Oh fuck, oh fuck, Kylo, I’m-- I need--_

 _Do it. Cum for me._ His voice is so deep, forceful despite the ragged edge of his desire, and that’s it. That’s all you need, you’re flung from that precipice so hard you might as well be flying. Your vision goes white and you can’t breathe- you’re arching up off the bed and collapsing and clenching so hard on your fingers it almost hurts. By instinct alone your fingers keep up with his pace and pull you through your aftershocks, slowing only when you can see again.

You barely made it back to conscious thought in time to reach back out to him hear him gasping, little half-formed primal thoughts are filtering through as he savagely fucks his hand, desperate to get off: _only for me-- all fucking mine_.

Without thinking your post-orgasmic mind responded: _Yours-_ and all at once he’s groaning something deep and feral and cumming in his hand, nearly doubled over, sobbing from the sucker punch of his orgasm. You felt the hot burn at his eyes, felt sudden wet trails over his cheeks and-- 

He kicked you out again.


	5. Primary [Explicit][First Time]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from 30 Days of NSFW challenge:  
> "First Time"
> 
>  **Contains:** bad ways to confess your feelings, good ways to embarrass your potential partner. Bad ways to get into your lover's head. First Time (as a couple), fingering, excessive use of italics.
> 
> If you Headcanon you and Kylo to be virgins, you might want to read the next chapter ("ALTERNATE: Primary") instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY VALENTINES DAY, Y'ALL. 
> 
> This is way more romantic than I'd intended, but you know, fuck it. Spirit of the holiday, right?

Despite your less-than-stellar thread count sheets, you slept all the way through the night. Waking up in your own bed was shocking, in the most depressive way. It really shouldn’t have been a shock, but here you were. So, you’d sort of, well, mind-fucked Kylo Ren. That was a thing that happened. If he’d left in the middle of the night that would’ve been one thing, but since he was never in the room to begin with…If it weren’t for your thoroughly soaked underwear and morning-after orgasmic high you could’ve written it off as some stress hallucination. 

You stretched languidly and glanced to the wall module-- you had woken up before your alarm, which was another delight. You took the free time to enjoy your momentarily simple life: You laid in bed, thought of nothing besides the residual, gentle ache of a night well spent. When you finally finished basking in the simplicity of the room (and definitely not hiding from the complexity outside), you stood and began to get ready for the day. For now, you wouldn’t allow yourself to think of what Kylo Ren had planned for you. 

No matter what Kylo saw of the future, you couldn’t just fall head-first into some lust-fueled excuse for a relationship. Relationships were built on trust and communication, a mutual respect. And some sort of emotion more complicated than wanting to get your dick wet. And above all, what’s said during sex can’t be considered fair play. You had the distinct feeling you wouldn’t get much of that from the Lord Ren. You were, well, probably just some... entertainment. Someone who had caught his eye for the moment. You couldn’t _rule a galaxy_ with someone you only went to for training your magical head powers and getting off. 

Besides which, at the moment you were a translator. You had a job to do on this ship, one you’d trained for and actually wanted to do. It was one of the few stable things you had left, and you weren’t going to just let go of it that easily. 

When your mini-pep talk came to a close you checked the time again. If you left now you’d be early to your shift, but considering all the time you’d missed it certainly wouldn’t be unappreciated. You grabbed your datapad, immediately drawn to the simple notification- timestamped two hours ago. 

_My quarters. Immediately._

Well, great. Looks like you were going to be late again.

 

 

The _Finalizer_ was honestly massive. Nearly two miles long and housing 80,000 personnel, the flagship of the First Order was nothing to be scoffed at. It was no wonder you’d become lost your first day, but now as you navigated long hallways you almost began to feel like you knew the ship, finally. Not all its broom closets or even just the less-traveled hallways ( _do not think about where Kylo was yesterday_ ), but at least enough to feel vaguely confident in traversing its length. 

Yet, you almost wished it was longer as you finally approached your Master’s quarters. The door was locked with a notable panel beside it. Likely you needed a very specific code to enter, not unlike the door you’d seen in Kylo’s bedroom. 

With a steadying breath, you raised a hand to knock -- the panel flashed green, the door slid open. Figures. Damn Force abilities. You glanced through the hallway and noted that there was no one else around, which was very good. You weren’t ready to face the new wave of rumors, especially considering they were turning out to be true.

You stepped inside- not quite recognizing the room. When you’d left yesterday morning (was it really only yesterday?) you hadn’t the time to stop and observe the ‘sitting room’. Which, is really what it was. Just a place to host guests that wasn’t as intimate or private as one’s bedroom. Like the bedroom, it was sparsely decorated with a desk, a table, two chairs and a sofa- everything varying shades of gray to charcoal. 

The room was, of course, empty. Why would Kylo Ren _ever_ meet you in his _sitting room_. You resist the urge to grind your teeth, instead continuing to the bedroom. 

In all his black robes and glory, Kylo sat cross-legged at the foot of his bed, hands in his lap, expression as calm as you’d ever seen it- eyes closed and face entirely blank. He’d been meditating for a while, you could feel it in just how relaxed he was. His shoulders lifted momentarily as he inhaled. You held your breath. “Sit.”

You’d been through this routine before. Whatever he needed to teach you at this early hour was purely mental and you were happy for the moment that you wouldn’t acquire new bruises before your shift. You removed your uniform boots, placing them carefully near the door, and mirrored Kylo’s pose across from him. Legs crossed, hands in your lap. Back straight.

You allowed yourself to relax, focus on clearing your mind and feeling the deep breaths that momentarily rejuvenated your body. 

Finally, his eyes opened. His brow fell slightly. You read a touch of disappointment off him. “You have even less control than I thought.” Your lips twitched downwards. You should've expected this lecture was coming. “You may be able to keep me out, but broadcasting your thoughts for everyone to see defeats the purpose.”

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “I didn’t even know I was doing it. I don’t even know how I keep you out.” 

“I’m well aware.” Disappointment shifts to frustration, a warning in his tone: “But if you project blindly and Knights are on board, you’ll be discovered immediately.” 

You blanch at the thought. Not just of having your supposedly private fantasies on display to complete strangers, but considering there isn’t supposed to be another Force-Sensitive person on board you don’t think you’d last very long afterwards. You weren't quite willing to bet that Kylo Ren would save you, leader of the pack or not. You swallow hard and nod once.

“We’ll practice some thought exercises, so you can feel the difference in thinking and projecting.” His eyes fall shut once more.

“Yes, Master.” You close your eyes in turn- relaxing your body and focusing on the faint feeling around you. Your breathing falls in sync, the only noise in the room. Following the flow of energy all around you without seeing it, opening yourself up to the Force. Just as he had taught you.

You felt the thin string of consciousness Kylo passed to you, following it into a shallow connection with his mind. 

_Watch_. 

Through this connection you can see the images your Master is reviewing in his mind- he’s practicing with his lightsaber, working on a specific technique, falling back into a particular stance between strikes. He's not particularly graceful, but there's something magnetic about how he moves. But this information is useless to you; you have nowhere near the same weapon as him. How would this be useful to learning to control your own thoughts? You realize it then: he’s just thinking. Just recalling a memory to show you something.

He pushes you from his mind-- the connection still there, but muffled. He sends a thought to you, _Without purposely touching another’s mind, you will not hear their thoughts. You may read emotion or fragments of thought, but not the whole idea._ You knew this from previous sessions- knew Kylo purposely dusted over the minds of anyone in his vicinity- a practice in endurance and control, he'd called it. For the moment you are only within your own head. You’re fully aware that Kylo Ren is sitting across from you, is likely still thinking of that particular training session based on the blankness of his emotions. You push back at the connection, trying to observe the exact distinction of being in someone else’s mind. Vaguely you can feel he’s encouraging this.

You lose count of how many times you’ve crossed back and forth over the few feet between your physical bodies. You catch fragments of lightsaber lessons, vague impressions of him concentrating on levitating multiple items at once. Once was a speech given by a disembodied voice you didn’t recognize, and from the chill that ran down your spine in response you really didn’t want to. You wonder if he could run out of lessons to replay for you before you manage to see what exactly was meant to be found. You wonder if you will test his patience too much to learn anything.

But his good will holds out long enough for you to begin to see. It’s a blurred line, a gradient, not entirely able to be defined as to when you pass from your own consciousness to completely immersed in the lesson he recalls. You think you find it when you can feel the traces of Kylo’s signature in the Force- that distinct energy that only he holds-- but before you’re completely aware of his exact thoughts. A little thrum of approval shifts off him.

He pushes you from his mind again, _This is projecting without a target._ At first, you think that nothing has happened. That you’re still waiting for Kylo’s example, but then you sort of, hear it. Like music coming from the end of a hallway or a conversation in another room-- something easily ignored and hard to distinguish from the background noise of the world. But you did hear it- you found it. A little string of noise and color through the Force. You reach for it- and it comes easily to your mind after you sensed it. You just touch it, vivid imagery rushing over you--

Your own thoughts of Kylo’s fingers working you open, the untempered, raw desire and the vague ghost sensation of a hand caressing you, your own hand from yesterday.

You gasp and recoil, both mentally and physically. Your eyes snap open, any concentration you had lost as your face burns in horror. He’d projected his memory of hearing your projection. If that was what he'd stumbled upon in the middle of the day you really felt awful, horribly ashamed. You kept your gaze on the floor, not even bothering to see if he was looking at you. A touch of amusement rolled off him and you figured, yeah, he probably was. 

You found your voice, shaky and still wholly embarrassed. “When you, uh, responded. That wasn’t projecting, was it? It was different right?”

“No. I was speaking only to you. For someone to intercept that they would need to be trying to get into your mind alone. It is otherwise insensible.” You nod.

He tugs at your mind- willing you to return to your meditative state and focus on the lesson again. You resume your previous position and try to block out the physical world. It took longer this time, your body reacting instinctively to the image and feelings he’d presented to you, but at length you followed the string back into his mind. 

_This is how it feels to think, and to project_. You wanted to state that you were fully aware of what thinking felt like, you’d been doing it the majority of you life- but keeping your mouth shut and keeping your mind from passing on that information were two very different things. You weren’t sure if he’d caught the whole thought of just the sentiment, but he seemed to mentally squint his eyes at you. He seemed to want to remind you that obviously you did, or yesterday’s event wouldn’t have happened.

But you focused on how it felt- the nothingness of meditation to the creation of ideas through thought within his mind. It was simple and seamless. A continuous stream of little thoughts that passed by- mindless things like the directions from his quarters to the bridge, white noise type ideas so you could see them being created, not what they really were. But there was something deeper, you could feel it. Something halfway visible under the white noise, an undercurrent of sorts. Without thinking you pressed against his mind, reaching for the unseen thought that was buried far from the surface. 

You’d brushed it- _affection_? Immediately, he growled, deep and feral- you’d overstepped. Rage, hot and untempered rushed over you- directed at you. You wished to pull away from his mind, give him that privacy back but- it was like he was holding you there, a hostage within himself- the way back to your own head no longer a straight string of consciousness but some awful tangled mess you couldn't un-knot. All around you the energy of his thoughts shifted, instead of flowing freely they pushed away from him- out, out into the world. Projecting. And then, the content of his thoughts changed. 

You felt it, recalling the memories through his point of view once more. The way your mouth had tasted when he kissed you in this very room, the way you moaned his name, how you had whispered you were his just to help him get off. If anyone else on the ship was Force-sensitive he was telling them right now your entire disgusting escapade. All your shameful little secrets from the last day.

You fought against what held you in place, whole body burning in shame of what he had shown you of yourself. Your fear that he viewed you as little more than something to pour his frustrations into echoed again. You wanted to cry, to beg to be transferred back to your old Star Destroyer. The energy shifted again- he stopped projecting, his mind moving smoothly as just thinking and then- 

You could feel your physical body jerk and gasp. He was throwing his thoughts _at_ you, pushing past any defense you could’ve pulled. He was showing you his memory of digging in your head the first time, watching your own memories and bits of personality float before him. How even when he was busy reviewing information for his missions he would think of you-- reach for you with his mind just to see where you were. If you were alright. He pushed his thoughts _of_ you-- 

Your ability to keep him out was a mystery to be solved, your necessity to be trained and how much you distracted him was a challenge to overcome. He _wanted_ to view you clinically, wanted to see you as an asset or a threat, but there was something _wrong_. He felt guilt for hurting you, felt a disgusting warmth when you smiled to a coworker, felt pride when you had learned something- beyond what a good Master should for his Apprentice. Disgust at his own feelings, that he would be even remotely dependent on someone again- the anger of being rejected too many times and anger for feeling that desire for connection, for intimacy again. And there it was, the once-hidden _affection_ , all washing over you and he didn’t _want it_.

You tried to pull away, the sensation too much to handle. You couldn’t tell if he’d finally released you or if by a miracle of near-panicking power you managed to free yourself from his mental cage. Either way you got a blessed lungful of air and the ringing silence of your own mind-- 

and then he was on top of you- knocking you onto your back- teeth nipping at your lips as he slid his body between your thighs. His lips melded against yours, pressing so hard you thought he'd leave new bruises after all- his hands once again finding their way into your hair to _grip_ and hold you exactly how he wanted you. Too shocked to do much else, you moaned and let your fingers clutch at the cloth of his cowl.

You could barely think, mind reeling from the intensity of his display and the needy kiss on your lips, but tried to push your previous concerns to him. That you were a sidekick and someone to fuck and not much more. Something to keep him entertained for a time. 

Something between a growl and a chuckle reverberated through his throat. _If I only wanted a consort you’d know it._ Something about his tone makes you shiver. His lips leave yours to nip at your jaw, nudging your head with his nose so he can suck at the hollow between your jaw and your neck. _I wanted you to want me._ It wasn’t cocky or arrogant, it wasn’t some display to fluff his ego. By rank or power, he could’ve done anything he damn well wanted with you, but he had to know if you even wanted him.

It struck you then. He couldn’t read your mind- not like with others. You knew this, of course, but he actually _didn’t know_ if you had desired him, at least, not until yesterday when you'd shouted it from the invisible rooftops of the Force.

The pure sincerity of it felt like it was ripping a hole in your chest- against any better judgement you turned your head and found his lips again- your hands moving up to run through his thick hair. In an instant his kiss became compliant, no longer heedy to mark and claim his territory. You could _feel_ something break inside him- could feel the waves of confusing, overwhelming emotions that crashed from him and into you- but you didn’t break the kiss. It was unthinkable. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his waist- he instinctively rocked down against you- through clothes and all you could feel he was already hard- and a matching set of moans filled the air, before he could resist he repeated the motion, again until he was giving half-hearted thrusts against your pelvis. You pressed to his mind- _Bed, please-_

Without hesitation he lifted you from the floor and nearly threw you on the bed. Before you'd even stopped bouncing he began to tug at his black layers, shedding clothing and armor like a second skin. You returned the gesture, pulling your own clothes off till you were only in your underwear, you couldn't quite convince yourself to pull that off yet. He’d already seen beneath, sure, but it didn’t particularly make it any less exposing. 

By the time you’d kicked off your regulation socks he’d already stripped bare, just as unashamed as he had been before. With the immediate juxtaposition of seeing him in armor, he looked so much smaller. Still tall and well-muscled with long, gangly limbs, but so much less immense without the black padding and armor. 

He moved onto the bed and again situated himself between your thighs, for the moment just staring at you as you leaned back against the pillows. Though desire and awe overwhelmed most of his emotional response, you could feel the smallest edge of uncertainty. He hardly moved as he observed you- just tracing your form, memorizing every line that composed your body. Only when you began to grow anxious did he finally touch you. 

He held your forearms, just to feel your skin- and traced upwards to your shoulders. He moved his hands inwards to your neck, letting his thumbs drag across your collarbones. When he reached your neck he leaned in and kissed you again and you let your hands tangle in his hair once more. For as gentle as he had been, he couldn’t resist nipping at your lower lip. 

He pulled away and his hands traced downwards, letting only the pads of his fingers skin over your skin. As he reached your breasts his eyes flickered up to yours and back down to his hands- that twinge of uncertainty flared up again. His fingers moved over your skin with telltale inexperience- unsure of what would be pleasurable for you. Had he done this before? 

You must’ve voiced this mentally (probably unintentionally projecting again, damn!) because he nodded minutely and spoke quietly: “When I was. Young.” There wasn’t embarrassment to his voice, only stated as a fact. You wanted to point out that he was still very young considering the youthful age of his face (and admit the same situation for yourself), but his fingers found your nipples and began to stroke and roll. 

You sighed at this and let your own hands explore over his skin, his neck and shoulders, noting the powerful muscles that twitched slightly under your fingertips- how he would lean just barely into your touch. How long had it been since he’d been touched in such a way? You didn’t let yourself dwell on it- on the things he had to sacrifice for his own climb to power. Instead, you drew him down to keep kissing him as his hands trailed over your sides, your belly, and finally to the elastic edge of your underwear.

He hesitated, tracing along the skin above the cloth, but when you lifted your hips for him to remove it he did so freely. Again he sat back on his heels to look at you- his hands now tracing up and down your thighs- making you shiver with anticipation once more. He brought one hand in to trace along the sensitive juncture of hips and thigh, and then inwards again. His touch was slow, frequently looking up to meet your eyes in approval. You let yourself sigh as he parted your lips, feeling how wet you were. His finger slid up to circle your clit and you gave a rumble of appreciation. 

He slid that first finger in and it was simultaneously exactly and nothing at all like you’d imagined it. He moaned quietly, helpless to imagine how you'd feel around him. His fingers were so much wider than yours, so much longer, slipping in deeper than you would’ve thought. But the sensation was perfect- to have someone else inside you, rather than twisting at your wrist to get the angle right. He slid a second finger in and you did moan that time, letting him work you open with a slow, deep rhythm that felt like your whole body was rocking to. 

You leaned up and kissed you again- your arms hanging over his shoulders while you lifted your hips to meet his hand. You didn’t protest when you felt his fingers slip out, nor when he adjusted your hips upwards. He glanced up to you again, uncertainty more obvious than before. The last time he’d done this, could he tell if his partner was ready with just his mind? You made sure to _think_ that thought, and nod. 

He enters you excruciatingly slow, taking plenty of time to draw back a little and press further in, his little movement accompanied by the occasional noise from one or both of you. By the time he bottoms out, you’re already well worked up and excited and he’s looked at you with this unreadable awe, hands tracing over your chest and shoulders again- like he’s trying to memorize your shape. You cup his face and trace your thumbs over those high cheekbones.

He rocks his hips against you while staring at your face- watching your head fall back to moan. He dips his head to kiss at your neck, hot tongue laving over sensitive spots while his hips set up a steady pace. One of your hands holds him by the neck while the other traces over his back, feeling the shape of the vertebrae in his spine, the little differences in texture for all the scars that colored his back. You wanted to know every story behind them, wanted to know any time something had pierced his flesh and he’d survived. But you couldn’t voice that right now, so you moaned and wrapped one leg around Kylo’s hips to angle him just how you wanted it.

He whispers your name against your neck, and your breath catches in your throat. It was not the moan of a lover, you knew. It was- as though he were injured and calling for help. The same desperation, the same physical need. Your eyes stung and you pulled him back up to meet your lips- practically devouring his mouth- shoving your thought into his mind: _I’m here. I’m real._ You arched up and pressed as much of your body as you could against his. 

Apparently it was the right thing to say. He groaned or sobbed (you couldn’t tell, and frankly it didn’t matter) against your lips and pressed a hand to your temple- a simple pressure from his mind against yours-- _let me in_. 

“I don’t know how,” your lips brushing his as you spoke. He pressed his other hand to your opposite temple, holding you in his hands. The position forced him to crouch low over your body, nearly pressed completely together, but you certainly couldn’t complain-- especially since he kept his pace continuous despite the change.

He pressed a little harder against your mind- not an uncomfortable feeling yet- not like how he had forced himself in to scrabble over fragments of memory before, but strange nonetheless-- _let me in_ , he pleaded. 

And for some reason you _wanted_ to. Even if it made you weak and no longer the intriguing anomaly that caused him to see you in the first place. You wanted to unlock every door and tear down any wall that prevented him from being inside you completely, if only for just a moment. You let that feeling seep back into him from where he was pressed against you and he moaned, his forehead pressed against yours, appreciation and awe falling off his emotional response. 

His hips canted and rutted faster, his right hand letting go of your temple to slide down your body- settling over your clit- your hips jerked- and stroking gently in time with his thrusts- not nearly enough to make you cum, not yet, but definitely on the right track. _let me in_. The pressure was back, harder now- pressing somewhere behind your eye socket. You wanted to thrash your head to the side, push him from your mind and explain you _couldn’t,_ but you found yourself unable to move away from those dark, pleading eyes. 

Instead, he leaned back just enough to catch the leg that was around his hip and bring it up to his shoulder. Whatever punches he had been pulling were coming full force now- his thrusting coming in quick, sharp, controlled hits while his thumb was stroking demandingly against your over-sensitive clit. No longer was it about teasing or building up- he was determined to make you cum. Determined to make you fall apart right now. 

You couldn’t take it, it was too much. You cried out and bucked against him, but he wouldn’t relent- only whispering soothingly in your ear, in your mind: _let me in_. The pressure of your impending orgasm and the pressure in your head were building too quickly, and you squirmed, trying to get away from the overbearing sensations but to no avail- you were completely at his mercy, just waiting to see what part of you he would break open first and-- _fuck_ if _that_ didn’t do something for you.

 _I’m not going to hurt you, I’ll never do that--_ You moaned again, breathless and needy, mind too full of a supernatural presence and pleasure to think clearly- only capable of focusing on the twin pressures in your body and the soft, thick texture of his hair in your hand. You were so close to, to something you couldn’t name. Something you wanted so badly you could hardly breathe. You needed something- guidance or help or something at all that you couldn’t describe. You needed this pressure to stop, needed to fall off whatever cliff you’d been climbing. _Let go. I have you._ And his voice sounded so comforting, so nice- you believed him.

Nearly simultaneously, but just barely not, four things happened: 

First, you spent half a second to let go- felt the rapid pace of Kylo’s dick inside you, felt the rough pull the pad of his thumb had on your clit- his hot breath against your face and neck as he panted. 

Second, in letting go, whatever primal security reflex you had had was ripped away- like yanking the blinds off a window the world around you became bright, too fucking bright- overwhelming. 

Third, as soon as the second had happened, Kylo in all his gray signature was pouring into you, into your mind, into your very body until you felt you were nothing more than some container that had been hollowed out just for him to reside in. You felt okay with this. If you had to carve out a part of your chest to make room for him, suddenly that felt like a task that was worth undertaking. You knew, somehow, he felt the same way- that you were suddenly inside him as well, able to see the little cracks of his mind and soul that you would never be able to put into words.

Last, as soon as he was there his own feelings were rushing through you. His mindless pleasure, just as needy and desperate as your own, his shock and strange feeling of being _truly_ inside you. And then your pleasure was filtered back to him, and back to you, and so on in an infinite positive feedback loop of the most basic of pleasures. And you gasped and writhed and clamped down on his cock like it was the first orgasm you’d ever had, while he continued to fuck you, continued to rub that little nub until there really were tears in your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a suggestion I received, here's the version of the chapter where both the Reader and Kylo have had sex before, but just not recently (because who has time for sex when you're trying to rule the galaxy??)


	6. [ALT]Primary [Explicit][First Time&Virginity]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A clone of the previous chapter, here is the alternate version of the first time, where you're both virgins.

Despite your less-than-stellar thread count sheets, you slept all the way through the night. Waking up in your own bed was shocking, in the most depressive way. It really shouldn’t have been a shock, but here you were. So, you’d sort of, well, mind-fucked Kylo Ren. That was a thing that happened. If he’d left in the middle of the night that would’ve been one thing, but since he was never in the room to begin with…If it weren’t for your thoroughly soaked underwear and morning-after orgasmic high you could’ve written it off as some stress hallucination. 

You stretched languidly and glanced to the wall module-- you had woken up before your alarm, which was another delight. You took the free time to enjoy your momentarily simple life: You laid in bed, thought of nothing besides the residual, gentle ache of a night well spent. When you finally finished basking in the simplicity of the room (and definitely not hiding from the complexity outside), you stood and began to get ready for the day. For now, you wouldn’t allow yourself to think of what Kylo Ren had planned for you. 

No matter what Kylo saw of the future, you couldn’t just fall head-first into some lust-fueled excuse for a relationship. Relationships were built on trust and communication, a mutual respect. And some sort of emotion more complicated than wanting to get your dick wet. And above all, what’s said during sex can’t be considered fair play. You had the distinct feeling you wouldn’t get much of that from the Lord Ren. You were, well, probably just some... entertainment. Someone who had caught his eye for the moment. You couldn’t _rule a galaxy_ with someone you only went to for training your magical head powers and getting off. 

Besides which, at the moment you were a translator. You had a job to do on this ship, one you’d trained for and actually wanted to do. It was one of the few stable things you had left, and you weren’t going to just let go of it that easily. 

When your mini-pep talk came to a close you checked the time again. If you left now you’d be early to your shift, but considering all the time you’d missed it certainly wouldn’t be unappreciated. You grabbed your datapad, immediately drawn to the simple notification- timestamped two hours ago. 

_My quarters. Immediately._

Well, great. Looks like you were going to be late again.

 

 

The _Finalizer_ was honestly massive. Nearly two miles long and housing 80,000 personnel, the flagship of the First Order was nothing to be scoffed at. It was no wonder you’d become lost your first day, but now as you navigated long hallways you almost began to feel like you knew the ship, finally. Not all its broom closets or even just the less-traveled hallways ( _do not think about where Kylo was yesterday_ ), but at least enough to feel vaguely confident in traversing its length. 

Yet, you almost wished it was longer as you finally approached your Master’s quarters. The door was locked with a notable panel beside it. Likely you needed a very specific code to enter, not unlike the door you’d seen in Kylo’s bedroom. 

With a steadying breath, you raised a hand to knock -- the panel flashed green, the door slid open. Figures. Damn Force abilities. You glanced through the hallway and noted that there was no one else around, which was very good. You weren’t ready to face the new wave of rumors, especially considering they were turning out to be true.

You stepped inside- not quite recognizing the room. When you’d left yesterday morning (was it really only yesterday?) you hadn’t the time to stop and observe the ‘sitting room’. Which, is really what it was. Just a place to host guests that wasn’t as intimate or private as one’s bedroom. Like the bedroom, it was sparsely decorated with a desk, a table, two chairs and a sofa- everything varying shades of gray to charcoal. 

The room was, of course, empty. Why would Kylo Ren _ever_ meet you in his _sitting room_. You resist the urge to grind your teeth, instead continuing to the bedroom. 

In all his black robes and glory, Kylo sat cross-legged at the foot of his bed, hands in his lap, expression as calm as you’d ever seen it- eyes closed and face entirely blank. He’d been meditating for a while, you could feel it in just how relaxed he was. His shoulders lifted momentarily as he inhaled. You held your breath. “Sit.”

You’d been through this routine before. Whatever he needed to teach you at this early hour was purely mental and you were happy for the moment that you wouldn’t acquire new bruises before your shift. You removed your uniform boots, placing them carefully near the door, and mirrored Kylo’s pose across from him. Legs crossed, hands in your lap. Back straight.

You allowed yourself to relax, focus on clearing your mind and feeling the deep breaths that momentarily rejuvenated your body. 

Finally, his eyes opened. His brow fell slightly. You read a touch of disappointment off him. “You have even less control than I thought.” Your lips twitched downwards. You should've expected this lecture was coming. “You may be able to keep me out, but broadcasting your thoughts for everyone to see defeats the purpose.”

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “I didn’t even know I was doing it. I don’t even know how I keep you out.” 

“I’m well aware.” Disappointment shifts to frustration, a warning in his tone: “But if you project blindly and Knights are on board, you’ll be discovered immediately.” 

You blanch at the thought. Not just of having your supposedly private fantasies on display to complete strangers, but considering there isn’t supposed to be another Force-Sensitive person on board you don’t think you’d last very long afterwards. You weren't quite willing to bet that Kylo Ren would save you, leader of the pack or not. You swallow hard and nod once.

“We’ll practice some thought exercises, so you can feel the difference in thinking and projecting.” His eyes fall shut once more.

“Yes, Master.” You close your eyes in turn- relaxing your body and focusing on the faint feeling around you. Your breathing falls in sync, the only noise in the room. Following the flow of energy all around you without seeing it, opening yourself up to the Force. Just as he had taught you.

You felt the thin string of consciousness Kylo passed to you, following it into a shallow connection with his mind. 

_Watch_. 

Through this connection you can see the images your Master is reviewing in his mind- he’s practicing with his lightsaber, working on a specific technique, falling back into a particular stance between strikes. He's not particularly graceful, but there's something magnetic about how he moves. But this information is useless to you; you have nowhere near the same weapon as him. How would this be useful to learning to control your own thoughts? You realize it then: he’s just thinking. Just recalling a memory to show you something.

He pushes you from his mind-- the connection still there, but muffled. He sends a thought to you, _Without purposely touching another’s mind, you will not hear their thoughts. You may read emotion or fragments of thought, but not the whole idea._ You knew this from previous sessions- knew Kylo purposely dusted over the minds of anyone in his vicinity- a practice in endurance and control, he'd called it. For the moment you are only within your own head. You’re fully aware that Kylo Ren is sitting across from you, is likely still thinking of that particular training session based on the blankness of his emotions. You push back at the connection, trying to observe the exact distinction of being in someone else’s mind. Vaguely you can feel he’s encouraging this.

You lose count of how many times you’ve crossed back and forth over the few feet between your physical bodies. You catch fragments of lightsaber lessons, vague impressions of him concentrating on levitating multiple items at once. Once was a speech given by a disembodied voice you didn’t recognize, and from the chill that ran down your spine in response you really didn’t want to. You wonder if he could run out of lessons to replay for you before you manage to see what exactly was meant to be found. You wonder if you will test his patience too much to learn anything.

But his good will holds out long enough for you to begin to see. It’s a blurred line, a gradient, not entirely able to be defined as to when you pass from your own consciousness to completely immersed in the lesson he recalls. You think you find it when you can feel the traces of Kylo’s signature in the Force- that distinct energy that only he holds-- but before you’re completely aware of his exact thoughts. A little thrum of approval shifts off him.

He pushes you from his mind again, _This is projecting without a target._ At first, you think that nothing has happened. That you’re still waiting for Kylo’s example, but then you sort of, hear it. Like music coming from the end of a hallway or a conversation in another room-- something easily ignored and hard to distinguish from the background noise of the world. But you did hear it- you found it. A little string of noise and color through the Force. You reach for it- and it comes easily to your mind after you sensed it. You just touch it, vivid imagery rushing over you--

Your own thoughts of Kylo’s fingers working you open, the untempered, raw desire and the vague ghost sensation of a hand caressing you, your own hand from yesterday.

You gasp and recoil, both mentally and physically. Your eyes snap open, any concentration you had lost as your face burns in horror. He’d projected his memory of hearing your projection. If that was what he'd stumbled upon in the middle of the day you really felt awful, horribly ashamed. You kept your gaze on the floor, not even bothering to see if he was looking at you. A touch of amusement rolled off him and you figured, yeah, he probably was. 

You found your voice, shaky and still wholly embarrassed. “When you, uh, responded. That wasn’t projecting, was it? It was different right?”

“No. I was speaking only to you. For someone to intercept that they would need to be trying to get into your mind alone. It is otherwise insensible.” You nod.

He tugs at your mind- willing you to return to your meditative state and focus on the lesson again. You resume your previous position and try to block out the physical world. It took longer this time, your body reacting instinctively to the image and feelings he’d presented to you, but at length you followed the string back into his mind. 

_This is how it feels to think, and to project_. You wanted to state that you were fully aware of what thinking felt like, you’d been doing it the majority of you life- but keeping your mouth shut and keeping your mind from passing on that information were two very different things. You weren’t sure if he’d caught the whole thought of just the sentiment, but he seemed to mentally squint his eyes at you. He seemed to want to remind you that obviously you did, or yesterday’s event wouldn’t have happened.

But you focused on how it felt- the nothingness of meditation to the creation of ideas through thought within his mind. It was simple and seamless. A continuous stream of little thoughts that passed by- mindless things like the directions from his quarters to the bridge, white noise type ideas so you could see them being created, not what they really were. But there was something deeper, you could feel it. Something halfway visible under the white noise, an undercurrent of sorts. Without thinking you pressed against his mind, reaching for the unseen thought that was buried far from the surface. 

You’d brushed it- _affection_? Immediately, he growled, deep and feral- you’d overstepped. Rage, hot and untempered rushed over you- directed at you. You wished to pull away from his mind, give him that privacy back but- it was like he was holding you there, a hostage within himself- the way back to your own head no longer a straight string of consciousness but some awful tangled mess you couldn't un-knot. All around you the energy of his thoughts shifted, instead of flowing freely they pushed away from him- out, out into the world. Projecting. And then, the content of his thoughts changed. 

You felt it, recalling the memories through his point of view once more. The way your mouth had tasted when he kissed you in this very room, the way you moaned his name, how you had whispered you were his just to help him get off. If anyone else on the ship was Force-sensitive he was telling them right now your entire disgusting escapade. All your shameful little secrets from the last day.

You fought against what held you in place, whole body burning in shame of what he had shown you of yourself. Your fear that he viewed you as little more than something to pour his frustrations into echoed again. You wanted to cry, to beg to be transferred back to your old Star Destroyer. The energy shifted again- he stopped projecting, his mind moving smoothly as just thinking and then- 

You could feel your physical body jerk and gasp. He was throwing his thoughts _at_ you, pushing past any defense you could’ve pulled. He was showing you his memory of digging in your head the first time, watching your own memories and bits of personality float before him. How even when he was busy reviewing information for his missions he would think of you-- reach for you with his mind just to see where you were. If you were alright. He pushed his thoughts _of_ you-- 

Your ability to keep him out was a mystery to be solved, your necessity to be trained and how much you distracted him was a challenge to overcome. He _wanted_ to view you clinically, wanted to see you as an asset or a threat, but there was something _wrong_. He felt guilt for hurting you, felt a disgusting warmth when you smiled to a coworker, felt pride when you had learned something- beyond what a good Master should for his Apprentice. Disgust at his own feelings, that he would be even remotely dependent on someone again- the anger of being rejected too many times and anger for feeling that desire for connection, for intimacy again. And there it was, the once-hidden _affection_ , all washing over you and he didn’t _want it_.

You tried to pull away, the sensation too much to handle. You couldn’t tell if he’d finally released you or if by a miracle of near-panicking power you managed to free yourself from his mental cage. Either way you got a blessed lungful of air and the ringing silence of your own mind-- 

and then he was on top of you- knocking you onto your back- teeth nipping at your lips as he slid his body between your thighs. His lips melded against yours, pressing so hard you thought he'd leave new bruises after all- his hands once again finding their way into your hair to _grip_ and hold you exactly how he wanted you. Too shocked to do much else, you moaned and let your fingers clutch at the cloth of his cowl.

You could barely think, mind reeling from the intensity of his display and the needy kiss on your lips, but tried to push your previous concerns to him. That you were a sidekick and someone to fuck and not much more. Something to keep him entertained for a time. 

Something between a growl and a chuckle reverberated through his throat. _If I only wanted a consort you’d know it._ Something about his tone makes you shiver. His lips leave yours to nip at your jaw, nudging your head with his nose so he can suck at the hollow between your jaw and your neck. _I wanted you to want me._ It wasn’t cocky or arrogant, it wasn’t some display to fluff his ego. By rank or power, he could’ve done anything he damn well wanted with you, but he had to know if you even wanted him.

It struck you then. He couldn’t read your mind- not like with others. You knew this, of course, but he actually _didn’t know_ if you had desired him, at least, not until yesterday when you'd shouted it from the invisible rooftops of the Force.

The pure sincerity of it felt like it was ripping a hole in your chest- against any better judgement you turned your head and found his lips again- your hands moving up to run through his thick hair. In an instant his kiss became compliant, no longer heedy to mark and claim his territory. You could _feel_ something break inside him- could feel the waves of confusing, overwhelming emotions that crashed from him and into you- but you didn’t break the kiss. It was unthinkable. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his waist- he instinctively rocked down against you- through clothes and all you could feel he was already hard- and a matching set of moans filled the air, before he could resist he repeated the motion, again until he was giving half-hearted thrusts against your pelvis. He moaned against your kiss, pleased with his own friction. 

You pressed to his mind- _Bed, please-_ Perhaps in the future you would be fine with dry humping and grinding on the floor, but if you were going to do this, you wanted to do it right. On a bed. Besides that, you weren't.... wholly sure.

Without hesitation he lifted you from the floor and nearly threw you on the bed. Before you'd even stopped bouncing he began to tug at his black layers, shedding clothing and armor like a second skin. You returned the gesture, pulling your own clothes off till you were only in your underwear, you couldn't quite convince yourself to pull that off yet. He’d already seen beneath, sure, but it didn’t particularly make it any less exposing- any less embarrassing to finally be approaching this event. And with, well, _him_. 

By the time you’d kicked off your regulation socks he’d already stripped bare, just as unashamed as he had been before. You couldn't bring yourself to look at the throbbing length between his legs just yet. With the immediate juxtaposition of seeing him in armor, he looked so much smaller. Still tall and well-muscled with long, gangly limbs, but so much less immense without the black padding and armor. 

He moved onto the bed and again situated himself between your thighs, your anxiety peaked, but he moved no further-- for the moment just staring at you as you leaned back against the pillows. Though desire and awe overwhelmed most of his emotional response, you could feel the smallest edge of uncertainty. He hardly moved as he observed you- just tracing your form, memorizing every line that composed your body. You worried for only a moment if he liked your body- when of course, he'd already seen you naked. He'd been quite intent on wanting to touch you before. Nonetheless, the awkwardness of your position and his intense gaze left your cheeks heating and unable to meet his eyes. 

At length, he moved to touch your forearms, just to feel your skin- his large hands trembling, and yet remarkably sure. He wanted this, and apparently so did you, so he traced upwards to your shoulders. He moved his hands inwards to your neck, letting his thumbs drag across your collarbones. When he reached your neck he leaned in and kissed you again and you let your hands tangle in his hair once more. For as gentle as he had been, he couldn’t resist nipping at your lower lip. 

He pulled away and his hands traced downwards, letting only the pads of his fingers skin over your skin. The pressure he exerted was unstable, like he didn't know how rough he could or should be. As he reached your breasts his eyes flickered up to yours (you, in turn blushed and wanted to look away) and back down to his hands- that twinge of uncertainty flared up again. His fingers moved over your skin with telltale inexperience- unsure of what would be pleasurable for you. Had he done this before? 

You must’ve voiced this mentally (probably unintentionally projecting again, damn!) because he nodded minutely and spoke quietly: “Never. No one ever..." He let his voice trail off and you didn't pursue. There wasn’t embarrassment to his statement, only the blank tone he used for a simple fact. You wanted to reply that it was the same situation for you, but before you could his fingers found your nipples and began to experiment with stroking and rolling. 

You sighed at this, trying to signal when he'd done something you particularly liked- and let your own hands explore over his skin, his neck and shoulders, noting the powerful muscles that twitched slightly under your fingertips- how he would lean just barely into your touch. How long had it been since he’d been touched in such a way? Obviously never as intimately as this but-- You didn’t let yourself dwell on it- on the things he had to sacrifice for his own climb to power. Instead, you drew him down to keep kissing him as his hands trailed down over your sides, your belly, and finally to the elastic edge of your underwear.

He hesitated, unable to meet your eyes this time, only tracing along the skin above the cloth as though it were the only thing that mattered in this whole affair. His emotional response was as anxious as yours, and you took some comfort in that. You lifted your hips and guided his hands to pull the cloth from your body.

Again he sat back on his heels to look at you- his hands now tracing up and down your thighs- making you shiver with anticipation and anxiety once more. He kept at this motion until you could relax into it, until you were okay with continuing. He brought one hand in to trace along the sensitive juncture of hips and thigh, sending little electric tingles up your spine, and then inwards again. His touch was slow, frequently looking up to meet your eyes in approval, unsure of what was supposed to happen exactly. You let yourself sigh as he parted your lips, feeling your sensitive skin for the first time. 

He cursed in some dialect of Bocce, unable to stop from muttering lowly, entirely to himself, about how wet you were. You flushed at the comment, knowing too well it was entirely true. He glanced up to you, watching your face as he ran his finger over your core- upwards until he bumped against your clit and you jerked against him. He traced over it for a moment, entirely too soft and slow, but pleasurable nonetheless. 

He slid that first finger in. He moaned quietly, helpless to imagine how you'd feel around him- your face heating as you saw his cock jump at the thought. It was simultaneously exactly and nothing at all like you’d imagined it. His fingers were so much wider than yours, so much longer, slipping in deeper than you would’ve thought. But the sensation was perfect- to have someone else inside you, rather than twisting at your wrist to get the angle right. To have someone else's fingers in you at all, really. He slid a second finger in and you did moan that time, letting him work you open with a slow, deep rhythm that felt like your whole body was rocking to.

You leaned up and kissed you again- your arms hanging over his shoulders while you lifted your hips to meet his fingers. He holds you like this for longer than you'd expect- taking his time to ease you into the new feeling of having someone else rubbing your walls. You didn’t protest when you felt his fingers slip out, nor when he adjusted your hips upwards. He glanced up to you again, uncertainty more obvious than before. Even now he was trying to give you the option to leave. Despite your anxiety, you bite your lip and nod.

He enters you excruciatingly slow, taking plenty of time to draw back a little and press further in, his little movement accompanied by the occasional noise from one or both of you. By the time he bottoms out, you’re already well worked up and excited- your whole body shaking around this new and extremely pleasant intrusion. He’s looked at you with this unreadable awe, hands tracing over your chest and shoulders again- like he’s trying to memorize your shape. You cup his face and trace your thumbs over those high cheekbones.

His voice is breathless, strained. You feel like you can't breathe under the weight of his gaze. "Are you alright?"

You nod, minutely. Just barely able to put his words in a coherent order. "Thought it was supposed to hurt, or something."

He snorts, the jerk of his body making you clench around him in reflex. He responds with a pleased rumble from his chest, "Not if they're any good,"

He rocks his hips against you while staring at your face- watching your head fall back to moan, because holy shit that was new. He dips his head to kiss at your neck, hot tongue laving over sensitive spots while his hips stutter to life in a jerky, abrupt motion but eventually falling into something resembling a rhythm. One of your hands holds him by the neck while the other traces over his back, feeling the shape of the vertebrae in his spine, the little differences in texture for all the scars that colored his back. You wanted to know every story behind them, wanted to know any time something had pierced his flesh and he’d survived. But you couldn’t voice that right now, so you moaned and wrapped one leg around Kylo’s hips to try and angle him how you had done for yourself.

He whispers your name against your neck, and your breath catches in your throat. You were fairly sure it was not the moan of a lover. It was- as though he were injured and calling for help. The same desperation, the same physical need. Your eyes stung and you pulled him back up to meet your lips- practically devouring his mouth- shoving your thought into his mind: _I’m here. I’m real._ You arched up and pressed as much of your body as you could against his. 

Apparently it was the right thing to say. He groaned or sobbed (you couldn’t tell, and frankly it didn’t matter) against your lips and pressed a hand to your temple- a simple pressure from his mind against yours-- _let me in_. 

You gasped, “I don’t know how,” your lips brushing his as you spoke. He pressed his other hand to your opposite temple, holding you in his hands. The position forced him to crouch low over your body, nearly pressed completely together, but from proximity and how your clit brushed against his pelvis you didn't complain- again his hips faltered as his abs struggled with this new position.

He pressed a little harder against your mind- not an uncomfortable feeling yet- not like how he had forced himself in to scrabble over fragments of memory before, but strange nonetheless-- _let me in_ , he pleaded. 

And for some reason you _wanted_ to. Even if it made you weak and no longer the intriguing anomaly that caused him to see you in the first place. You wanted to unlock every door and tear down any wall that prevented him from being inside you completely, if only for just a moment. You let that feeling seep back into him from where he was pressed against you and he moaned, his forehead pressed against yours, appreciation and awe falling off his emotional response. 

His hips canted and rutted faster, uneven and unpredictable and yet managing to feel so, so good. His right hand letting go of your temple to slide down your body- settling over your clit- your hips jerked- and stroking gently in time with his uneven thrusts- not nearly enough to make you cum, not yet, but definitely on the right track. _let me in_. The pressure was back, harder now- pressing somewhere behind your eye socket. You wanted to thrash your head to the side, push him from your mind and explain you _couldn’t,_ but you found yourself unable to move away from those dark, pleading eyes. 

Instead, he leaned back just enough to catch the leg that was around his hip and bring it up to his shoulder, the ship's gravgen allowing your legs to fall open so easily- you felt so much more exposed. Whatever punches he had been pulling were coming full force now- his thrusting coming in quick, sharp, hits while his thumb was stroking demandingly, roughly against your over-sensitive clit. No longer was it about teasing or building up- he was determined to make you cum. Determined to make you fall apart right now. 

You couldn’t take it, it was too much. You cried out and bucked against him, but he wouldn’t relent- only whispering soothingly in your ear, in your mind: _let me in_ , his mental voice beginning to sound just as wrecked as he really was- as you really were. The pressure of your impending orgasm and the pressure in your head were building too quickly, and you squirmed, trying to get away from the overbearing sensations but to no avail- you were completely at his mercy, just waiting to see what part of you he would break open first and-- _fuck_ if _that_ didn’t do something for you.

 _I’m not going to hurt you, I’ll never do that--_ You moaned again, breathless and needy, mind too full of a supernatural presence and pleasure to think clearly- only capable of focusing on the twin pressures in your body and the soft, thick texture of his hair in your hand. You were so close to, to something you couldn’t name. Something you wanted so badly you could hardly breathe. You needed something- guidance or help or something at all that you couldn’t describe. You needed this pressure to stop, needed to fall off whatever cliff you’d been climbing. _Let go. I have you._ And his voice sounded so comforting, so nice- you believed him.

Nearly simultaneously, but just barely not, four things happened: 

First, you spent half a second to let go- felt the rapid pace of Kylo’s dick inside you, felt the rough pull the pad of his thumb had on your clit- his hot breath against your face and neck as he panted. 

Second, in letting go, whatever primal security reflex you had had was ripped away- like yanking the blinds off a window the world around you became bright, too fucking bright- overwhelming. 

Third, as soon as the second had happened, Kylo in all his gray signature was pouring into you, into your mind, into your very body until you felt you were nothing more than some container that had been hollowed out just for him to reside in. You felt okay with this. If you had to carve out a part of your chest to make room for him, suddenly that felt like a task that was worth undertaking. You knew, somehow, he felt the same way- that you were suddenly inside him as well, able to see the little cracks of his mind and soul that you would never be able to put into words: a little corner of his mind that wondered if anyone could ever stand to bed him, even once.

Last, as soon as he was there his own feelings were rushing through you. His mindless pleasure, just as needy and desperate as your own, his shock and strange feeling of being _truly_ inside you. And then your pleasure was filtered back to him, and back to you, and so on in an infinite positive feedback loop of the most basic of pleasures. And you gasped and writhed and clamped down on his cock like it was the first orgasm you’d ever had, while he continued to fuck you, continued to rub that little nub until there really were tears in your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably be shorter and less smutty, but will finally mark the end of the tale of how you got together. From there we get into the really kinky stuff. Like blindfolds. Or chocolate syrup. That's some unforgivably sinful shit right there, so we're all going to Hell.


	7. Quiet [Mature][Morning After]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short piece to end the expositionary requirements to my smut brigade. Just fluff, pretty much.

The world returns in pieces. The heavy weight of his body halfway on top of yours (and yet, he’s lighter than you would’ve thought). The sound of your own breathing, followed quickly by the _feeling_ of breathing, the rising and falling reminder that you are, in fact, alive. When he shifts off you, you’re aware enough to follow his eyes as he faces you, aware enough to mindlessly touch his skin- anything you can reach while your boneless body tries to recall higher thinking processes.

It wasn’t entirely the orgasm you were coming down from, you could tell. The ringing in your ears having nothing at all to do with physical sensation. But you didn’t have the mental energy yet to focus on what exactly had changed between the two of you- what he’d done to your mind. So, you blinked lazily at him, like a contented cat. A corner of his mouth quirked up. 

You spent the next several minutes passing in and out of awareness, pleased to let the afterglow wash away in its own time. When you felt you could no longer sit idly, you turned on your side to face him completely. You wanted to remember this forever: his face still pink- all the color situated on the tops of those long cheeks. His hair completely wrecked, a black, bedraggled mess. Lips pink and swollen. Even his dark eyes were still wide with receding lust. 

You want to move closer to him, maybe relax against his body for a while more, but the sudden tacky realization of what was half gluing the backs of your thighs and butt to the sheet made you grimace. Concern and a low-level of offense rolled off Kylo and you wanted to scoff. Technically it was his fault. You began to sit up, but your back and abdomen had other ideas so you allowed yourself to simply look down at the apex of your thighs. Creamy, viscous liquid was dripping out of you, quickly drying where it touched the air.

If you had any energy left at all you could’ve found the sensation erotic and arousing, but you were still too spent to even bother. Instead you gave an uneven grin, lightly teasing. “Definitely made a mess of me.” 

Kylo’s concern didn’t dissipate, only shifting into uneasy guilt. He touched your belly and moved down towards the messy pools of his own cum. Whether by accident or choice he avoided touching your definitely over-stimulated clit to brush over your entrance. It wasn’t meant to be teasing, you knew from his emotional response alone. 

_Regret, guilt, concern_. “I shouldn’t have.” You narrowed your eyes at him, he was _not_ about to do this. He’d made it very clear he had some form of romantic interest in you and was already so damn convinced of his inevitable future of having you at his side. His eyes flicked up to yours, shocked, almost boyish for how high his brow was arching. “Inside, I mean.”

The anger dissipated so quickly you couldn’t help but laugh, covering your face with one arm. Pure undeniable mirth. His own anger bristled, but you assuaged him with your own relief. “I’m serious,” He continued. “I wouldn’t wish that on you.” You’d just fucked your boss and he was concerned- not with whatever the future held, of course not, he could see it after all-- was with something his own damn company had a policy on. You would deal with the implications of _wishing a pregnancy on anyone_ later.

Instead you motioned to a small scar on your arm. If you pushed at the skin just right you could see the long, dark shape of the implant. “In the Order, anyone on active duty who is capable of getting pregnant is placed on mandatory birth control. Helps with any period pains and prevents unsanctioned liaisons resulting in medical leave.” 

He touched at the scar, emotional response quiet for the moment. You could probably brush his mind and see what he was thinking, but you figured not to, just yet. Instead, his hand trailed up your arm to cup the back of your head and pull you over for a kiss. You relaxed into it, happy to curl towards him and have his long arms encircle you. 

A concerning thought came to mind, based on something Kylo had mentioned in a lesson. “You said the Jedi aren’t allowed attachments. What of the Knights?”

“The Dark Side feeds off passion, strong emotions.” He presses his face into your hair, resting a cheek against your skull. “Mostly hatred or pain. But other emotions… produce the same effect.” 

You don’t point out he’s evaded the question, but there’s something endearing to the idea that you could make him stronger. You smile and close your eyes- wrap your arms loosely around his neck. You laugh, softly. “Hux is going to be pissed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So, now there will be a much less obvious time frame for following chapters, but they will still be in chronological order. There will be a slight time skip and summary of how your relationship develops because we all know what we're really here for.
> 
> Sooner or later, I'll address TFA and even write post-TFA chapters [because who could resist writing a "fuck in the Medbay while Kylo Angsts about his Dad" chapter].


	8. Release [Explicit][Blowjob]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from 30 Days of NSFW challenge:  
> "Blowjob"
> 
> This chapter has REFERENCES TO ABUSE & SELF HARM. You are not okay with these topics, please feel free to skip down to the 2nd 'part', after the multi-line break (ie where the smut is).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Contains** : Kylo being a bitch, but also kind of sweet. He's glad you're here for him, but scared you won't be.  
> Also, blowjob, deepthroating, face-fucking/irrumatio, semi-public sex, non-descript hairpulling, and Kylo keeps the mask on.

He was mad. The ever present feeling of him in the back of your mind tells you- you don’t even have to reach out to him to feel it. The thread that always connects your minds is burning with anger, not yet enough to warrant the destruction via lightsaber, but damn close.

Worse, he had a holomeeting to attend in an hour. If he went into a closed room with only Hux, Phasma, and the other high-ranking officers on board, someone would fall to his blade. Someone would not leave that room unscathed, probably wouldn’t even have intended their comment to be taken offensively by the Knight. It had already been a bad week, you couldn’t let him dig himself further into this rut by murdering an officer.

But what really made this situation so awful was that you’d been working with him on this. On venting excess, unneeded anger in less destructive and costly manners. He hated to lose control like that in front of you. Of course because he was worried he would hurt you, but also for the same reason you’d find him staring at you at odd moments, or reaching out to your mind just to see where you were. Everyone feared him. You had a healthy respect for his power, but you wouldn’t call that _fear_. And he didn’t want you to fear him, didn’t want you to see what monster actually hid beneath that expressionless mask. 

Sleeping in his quarters didn’t make much of a difference. Sometimes it helped to have someone there fr him to fall back on and sometimes, you knew, he felt overexposed. 

(weeks of repeated admissions of love and acceptance of him, including all his flaws, could not undo decades worth of indoctrination and well-taught self-hatred). 

(weeks ago you wanted to know all the stories behind all the little scars on his back, all the times something had pierced his flesh and he’d survived. you’d quickly gathered that the lines were a little too similar, some on his sides a little too parallel. you knew now he was rarely hit in battle. you don’t know if you were glad or horrified that at least some of the scars were at too strange an angle to be done by his own hand)

(you made an effort to erase all of them with your lips)

You wish he would come to you. Rant for a moment about whatever had so thoroughly ravaged his nerves. It wouldn’t matter how trivial or insignificant it was, you would’ve listened. But you knew he wouldn’t. He was going to stalk the ship for forty minutes, put the fear in any slacking ‘troopers. It made him feel better, but not by much. With not much else to do, you took it upon yourself to. Well. Cheer him up.

 

 

 

You hid your signature in the Force and slipped through the long hallways of the _Finalizer_. If Kylo was looking for you in the Force he could’ve found you. You hoped he was too distracted to do so, otherwise your plan would be useless. You needed to get near him without him knowing that.

You walked quickly, a purposeful stride to your step. He was nearing the engineering decks. Good. Lots of empty spaces there. You kept yourself hidden from him until he was in sight. His fists were clenched tight to his sides, shoulders high and taut with stress. It would be impossible to completely sneak up on him, you knew (you’ve tried), but the element of surprise was still on your side.

First and foremost, you released your hold on your signature so he knew it was you-- just to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you on reflex of his training. Then, you, logically, sprinted to him- grabbed him by one arm and hauled him into the first side-hallway you saw. 

You almost wished his mask was off, just to see whatever face he was making for the pure _shock_ radiating off him. But you didn’t have too much time, and you suspected you could provoke him into more aggressive actions with the mask still on. So you pressed your body up against his, felt how warm he was under all those layers, leaned up as close as you could approximate to his ear and put on your best ‘seductive distraction’ voice. “I could feel how tense you were all the way across the ship, Kylo.” You wished his collar didn’t rise so high- he loved when you kissed his neck. “I think you can work off some stress.” You dragged a hand down his side to his thigh.

His breath caught through the mask. You grinned your satisfaction at the minute display- his emotional response- still heavy with unspent anger, was now marked with curious arousal. You pushed your hands inside his outer robe, under the chestpiece to his padded armor, so that only his undersuit was between your hands and his torso. You spent a hot minute caressing his body, appreciating the smooth planes of his chest, thumbing at his nipples before allowing your hands to move down towards his waist again- his robe and armor falling back into place. A sly grin passed over your features as you sank to your knees, your hands rubbing up and down his inner thighs, just avoiding the growing bulge at the front.

You gazed up to him through your eyelashes. “Is this acceptable, _Lord Ren_?” 

“Yes.” You could imagine how breathless he actually sounded, underneath that false voice. You palmed the bulge and a growl filtered through the modulator. His head tipped back and - you almost laughed- the helmet hit the wall with an appreciable _thunk_. Having Kylo melt under your touch was always a good thing, but it was not quite the reaction you were looking for.

You unclipped his belt and shoved armor, suit, and underclothes aside to free his half-hard cock. You stared at the blank face of his mask while you stroked him leisurely, loosely. Just taking the time to feel the smooth skin, tracing over the veins, following the curve of the head. When a touch of impatience filtered back to you, you let the tip of your tongue slide of the slit, feathersoft.

A groan echoing his impatience slipped from him, and you hoped you’d teased him enough. You took the head into your mouth and- his hips jerked forward, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Before he could produce an apologetic feeling, you moaned around his length- actively sent your praise back to him. And really, that was all it took. Two half attempts at thrusting before you each adjusted yourselves to the appropriate angle- your mouth and throat aligned and Kylo’s gloved hands gripping hard in your hair, your hands resting on his thighs to give you some support as he rocked into you.

It was erotic, having him above you, _using_ your mouth, holding you in place while his hips thrusted eagerly into you. You could spend days like this, barring physical needs. The taste of his skin- with the salty twinge of precum- on your tongue, his scent when he pulled you close, even the feeling of his thighs flexing under your palms. You tried to send that feeling to him; he responded in kind for how beautiful you were like this- a brief image of yourself on your knees before him.

You moaned at the image, weirdly aroused to see yourself. A _need_ came over his responses, quickly followed by Kylo changing his grip in your hair and thrusting faster, harder into your mouth. You did what you could to hollow your cheeks, stroke him with your tongue. A choked noise broke like static through the modulator again and he pulled you as close to his abdomen as he could, his cock buried in your throat and twitching, jerking on your tongue. You swallowed around him, trying to pull his orgasm out as long as you could and he shuddered- hands loosening from your hair to pet at you, his quiet murmurs of praise and your name lost to the mask’s electronic alterations.

You were immediately struck by the familiarity of this. Though it was nearly impossible this was the same hallway, you almost wanted to laugh, but suppressed that from your responses to him. It was common code through the personnel onboard for if Kylo was in a particularly foul mood so they knew to avoid him. How long would it be before there was a code for ‘Kylo is in a very _particular_ mood, avoid this area’? Hopefully you wouldn’t make a habit of fucking him in the hallways.

Instead, you tucked his softening cock back into his pants and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. From body language alone you knew he was still recovering, but his nearly blank emotional response was also a good sign. You smiled at him- sweet and genuine, pulled his masked head down and placed a kiss on the snout-like covering of his mouth. “You have a meeting to attend, I believe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi to me over at [ My Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/) we can talk about like, kylo ren or kinks or something.


	9. Reciprocal [Explicit][Oral+Orgasm Control]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo manages to get through his meeting without murder, but decides to have a little fun of his own at the Reader's expense (or gain?).
> 
> Direct continuation of Release, though it seems I should've saved that title for this chapter ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, I couldn't decide what kinks to list in the title so please read the list below carefully.
> 
> Super huge thank you and shout out to Anakin's Spawn who helped fuel this TRASH by commenting THIS mess:  
> “ ~~maybe like using to force to tease and edge the reader throughout the day or~~ making it like orgasm denial where kylo uses the force to hold it back”
> 
> So thanks for being a kinky bro, Anakin's Spawn. 
> 
> **Contains** : D/s overtones, light bondange, bondage via use of the Force, dirty talking, Crying, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Orgasm denial/orgasm delay, orgasm control via use of the Force, breath play/choking featuring Real Accurate Safe Choking Methods, shitty metaphors for orgasms, and aftercare. WOW.
> 
> Side note: this was written after not having slept for 36 hours or so, so please forgive my errors :'(

You didn’t need to overhear in the officer’s lounge that somehow no one had been Force-choked or stabbed in today's meeting to know that your plan had been a success. Really, the thrum of sustained contentment radiating off him into your mind for the rest of the day is reward enough, you figure. As much as you wanted to slip back to Kylo’s quarters and help yourself out a little, you were still technically employed on this ship and you technically had some work to attend to.

Though your duties (and willingness to attend such duties) under your Master ( as it was pretty easy to separate Kylo from _Lord Ren_ , as it turned out) had increased, you had insisted you remain a part of the linguistics staff. You had _chosen_ this job and you would stick to it, albeit with a much looser schedule and a lot less continuous fear of Hux’s impending imperial wrath. Much of your work was delegated off to three other translators, but certain languages and dialects were sent directly to you. Even then, most of your subordinates’ work was ultimately carbon copied to you for you to double check for any glaring errors. (For the most part, they did a wonderful job and you appreciated their hard work). 

To be honest, as far as you’d heard, no one had particularly questioned why your role in the Order had shifted so suddenly, nor why your uniforms began to look less like standard First Order issues and more like the Knights' armor sets. As far as you could tell, when your involvement with Ren was just a rumor it was purely entertainment. Now that people actually associated you with Kylo, and by extension, Kylo’s infamous temper and jealousy, the rumors had quieted down. It was simply an unspoken fact aboard the _Finalizer_ that you had a very particular relationship with the Master of the Knights of Ren. But your peers (not that really _were_ peers anymore) did not treat you coldly, just happened to find other things to speak of rather than your oddly kept hours and the man who sometimes was attached so firmly to your side he might’ve been your shadow. 

So instead of sending Kylo little touches of you satiating your arousal just to keep him on edge for a while, you settled at the desk that your lover never used and, glancing back and forth between one datapad- containing the original message- to another where you began to type up what was beginning to look like a section of Twi’Lek erotica. Figures. Rarely was an intercepted message of any real use to the Order. At least you could make sure to keep a feel out for Hux’s reaction to having “ _his mouth moved methodically up his partner’s left lekku_ ” sent to his personal inbox. Maybe he was into that kind of stuff, he definitely seem like the type of guy to have some interesting bed partners.

When you figured you had summed up that the entire document as someone’s attempt at fictional interspecies relations (including placing the protagonist's penis between the Twi’Lek’s headtails to finish on her forehead), you rolled your shoulders and sent the message up the chain. You rather hoped he had his datapad nearby. You rather hoped Kylo was near enough to Hux to read him when he got the message, just for kicks. 

For curiosity’s sake you reached out to Kylo- just to brush his mind, see how he was doing beyond that vague contentment. Mm, there was definitely something sexual lurking and-- Oh no. You could _feel_ his smirk under that damn mask, feel a latent desire for something he was planning- the moment he’d felt you touch his mind he’d hidden whatever he had planned. At least he’d keep away from destroying consoles for the day, you figured. He nearly laughed.

 _I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Be ready._

_For what exactly?_

He didn’t reply. Of course not. Well, at least you’d already finished your work. Too bad you'd miss Hux's reaction.

 

You ended up just stripping naked and settling on top of the bed. By default whatever devious plan Kylo had planned to entertain now would doubtlessly be impeded by clothing. You kind of figured still be clothed didn’t count as being “ready”. So, anxiously, you waited for the door to open and as the minutes ticked by you couldn’t help but work up a bit of a vague arousal just for the unknown of exactly what he planned on doing to you today. Which, really, could be just about anything. The Force was very useful and you two were very creative together. It was, at times, almost unnerving the things you could trust him with. 

You almost jumped when you heard the door open- you hadn’t even felt him draw near. Despite not even seeing him yet, not even anything remotely sexual having happened yet, your heart rate immediately jumped- excited for whatever would happen when he entered the bedroom. From the sitting room came the shifting noise of fabric- then the heavy, hollow noise of his helmet being dropped onto the floor. You began to get up, to join him in there, but against your will you sat down again- the external, ghostly pressure of the Force keeping you exactly how you were on the bed. 

Oh. So that was how this was going to go. Instead of leaving, you moved to lay more comfortably upon the blankets and against the pillows. Since he was apparently making you wait for- ah. He finally came into the bedroom. He’d shed his outer robe and hood, gloves, boots, and helmet somewhere between the door and here. His breath caught- you saw his pupils widen as he observed you, naked and waiting for him. Ready, just as he’d commanded. That dangerous smirk returned and he quickly pulled off his armor and undersuit’s shirt- leaving him in only the ribbed pants. For all the intimidation of his outfit, there was something very raw and primal seeing him like this. Exhilarating. 

You wanted to say something- some sassy comment of how ‘he just had to have you twice in one day, huh?’- but he moved faster than you could see (he’d be disappointed had you been sparring)- and grabbed one of your ankles, you yelped, and he dragging you straight down the bed in swift move. Suddenly your butt was hanging off the edge of the bed, one leg held wide open as his hand slid from ankle to thigh, and he was leaning over you, mouthing at your neck while his free hand caught your breast, massaging the skin and roughly flicking over your nipple as it hardened.

Between rough kisses from your jaw to your shoulders, kisses that were much more tongue and sucking and _heat_ than lips, he whispered in that low, rough voice. “You think you can just--," A bite on your neck. "-have your way with me in the hallways--," He sucked a dark hickey below your jaw. "-- think you can just suck my cock whenever you want?” He gave a sharp tug to your nipple. “Oh, no, no, _darling_.” His hot lips sucked on your earlobe, teeth scraping roughly. His voice dropped low and growled directly in your ear: “You’re _mine_ to play with,” 

You couldn’t help but moan for that one, arching up to press against the body hovering just over yours. Instead of pressing back, he moved away- just enough so you could see his face. His fingers stopped abusing your breast to brush tenderly- teasingly over your skin. His gaze was heavy with power, the control he knew he had over you. Blank, commanding: “Beg for me.” 

You blushed and turned away only for his hand to catch your chin and hold your head in place- his thumb tracing over the pad of your lower lip. His voice dropped low again, “Beg me to _toy_ with you, pet.” 

You whined softly, feeling your cunt clench in anticipation, and bit out a “ _Kylo_ ,” against your will. 

The hand on your thigh crept upwards, just barely ghosting over the crease between thigh and abdomen. You wanted to buck your hips, move his hand where you needed him, but found your hips pinned to the mattress once more. Instead you groaned. “More. Tell me what you want.” 

You couldn’t find the words- weren’t sure if you could say them even if you could remember them. Your need was too vague and abstract and god so long as his hands were on you you would probably be okay with it. Instead of words, you licked eagerly at the thumb still at your lips- pulling it into your mouth and laving it with your tongue, feeling the ridges and grooves of his fingerprint. If he didn’t accept that as a reasonable answer at the moment it felt as though your skin would be set ablaze. But he groaned in appreciation and stroked your tongue with his thumb.

Without prelude he sank to his knees at the end of the bed, pulled your thighs onto those broad shoulders and licked a broad stripe up your cunt. Along your thighs his long hair danced along the skin and you wanted to yell in relief, that he was finally touching you where you needed it. Your hips tried to bounce up to him again, but still they were anchored to the bed and then- as you reached down to tangle your fingers in those luscious, ebony locks- to grind his face into you- your wrists were being hauled up and pinned next to your head. 

This just wasn’t _fair_. Between your thighs you felt his laugh, the hot puff of air on your slick center. Despite such a bold start he moved slowly; took his time to suckle every inch of your labia, to trace every little fold your flesh made with the tip of his tongue. Despite his slow pace it was his _nose_ that kept the torture fresh- you were sure he wasn’t even intending to do it to begin with, but he’d definitely realized the power he held. The slightest of movements from one side to the other, up or down, and the tip of that long nose would press and drag over your clit’s hood. The sensation muffled and warm like the rest of his teasing, but just a shock more immediately pleasurable than whatever long game he was playing with you.

Only when you swore under your breath did he circle around your entrance, dipping inside to get a taste. He groaned happily- the vibrations of his throat settling in your thighs- and eagerly slid his tongue inside once more. He licked over every space he could reach inside you, meticulously, infuriatingly how slow he worked until he finally allowed himself to press his tongue up against the front wall, dragging over that sensitive spot and fighting to press his nose against your clit again.

Your breath caught, happy to have a relief from the continuous slow torture of his mouth. His grip on your thighs tightened- nails digging into flesh as he worked into you, like he was trying to physically pull the orgasm from you with his tongue and- stars- if he kept it up he just might and--

He slowed again, slower to the pace he held before, then stopped completely. “ _no_.” you whined, throwing your head to the side- straining against the invisible cuffs on your wrists. He was grinning and pulling his mouth away to meet your eyes purposely, that evil glint to his eye. Everything from his nose to his chin was coated in your wetness and his own saliva, glistening under the light. “I said I was going to toy with you.” Oh, _Force_. He brought one hand in to trail his index finger over your thighs- sensitive from the brushes of Kylo’s hair. You whined again and tried futilely to move you hips so he’d touch you. 

Instead that cruel laugh was back, before he pressed a chaste kiss to your thigh, nuzzling his cheek against your skin and leaving a patch of wetness that chilled quickly wherever he touched. He waited for your breathing to even out again before he started in. This time, he held your left leg over his shoulder- left arm over your hips despite his Force hold on them already. His right hand trailed in towards your cunt again, this time slipping over the incredibly slick skin. His finger rested just outside your entrance- just barely pressing against those muscles- and _rocking_. Just a subtle shift in direction that makes your hips want to cant and thrust and do anything at all to have him press inside. When you’re desperate enough to try and fight his Force-grip again he takes pity and slides that long finger inside you.

His new pace is just as slow as before, finger sliding in you in tandem with his mouth suckling over skin and flesh, rarely letting his lips drag over your sensitive clit, tongue touching the little bundle of nerves when you least expect it. He takes his time in exploring your skin like he's never seen it before, happy to retrace stretch marks with fingers and tongue while your pleasure slowly climbs again. He gaze flicks up to you from time to time- trying to gauge how close you are, how much you _need_ it. He removes his mouth from you completely when he crooks his fingers just right, working at the spot with more dexterity and strength than his tongue had. It’s such a nice, continuous feeling you let your back arch of the bed- head thrown back- and moan happily. You know he's purposely not touching your clit now- it's very hard to cum without it being touched, he's just teasing you some more. You open your eyes and gaze through your lashes to realize he’s just watching you, appreciating your form as you submit to _his_ pleasure. The thought alone makes you gasp and come closer to finishing than you thought possible and-

He rips his hand away with a warning growl. You can’t help it. You thrash against your bindings, throw your head from side to side. You’re not sure how much of what you’re trying to say is coming out in words and how much is total, nonsensical, pleasure-driven gibberish. Because you need it, you want to cum so badly. You’ve been worked up since your meeting in the hallway and it’s all too much and literal tears prick your eyes because it’s just too fucking much and not enough, not ever enough. You writhe and fight as much as you can while Kylo rubs his hands soothingly over your thighs, just watching the show before him. 

Two fat tears had managed to roll over your cheeks when you finally calmed enough for him to press _two_ fingers at your hole- rocking them just as he had before. And he stops. You scrunch your eyes closed and sob, “ _please_ , Kylo, I--” 

“Do you trust me?” You open your eyes again to him. The sinister, plotting look is gone, replaced by something purely honest. You have just enough of your wits enough to reach out to his emotional response-- it’s blank, this isn’t part of his game. He wants a real answer for this. You can’t fucking imagine why- he’s got your bound to the bed and has been essentially torturing you for feels like an hour. If you weren’t okay with what he was doing you could’ve coded out at any point. Beyond that he easily could’ve checked in your own mind to see if you did or did not.

He’s still waiting for an answer, so you nod, once. Of course. He grins and stands so he’s half hovering over you. He switches hands so it’s his left between your legs- and pushes two fingers in, _finally!_ and watches your face as you sigh into the pleasant feeling of him inside you once more. 

And then he’s working you open with fast, hard strokes across that soft spot. His thumb hooks up to bump on your clit as his fingers slide in and out rhythmically. The complete flip from his previous approach is overwhelming- it's bringing you up quickly. If that wasn't enough you feel a foreign pull on the hood of your clit (using the Force directly to pleasure you? that’s just _wrong_ you jest towards him). With the hood out of the way, his thumb makes quick work of tight circles around the fully exposed bud- and any jesting mood you had was gone because holy shit, it really was too much and your orgasm is building up speed.

The tears well at your eyes again, head thrashing back and forth- you _need_ this orgasm, if he denies you again it could break you, you think. You try to tell him- somehow, without words, even mentally that if he doesn’t stop now you’ll cum, you’re going to break apart under his hands if he doesn’t stop-- 

but his right hand is laid over your abdomen-- you can feel the Force, could almost see how his dark signature works around his hands and how that power flows _into_ you. You don’t think about what he’s doing, only focus on the very real fact of your approach orgasm and how he finally seems like he’s going to let you. 

Because oh, oh stars you’re so close, you’re _right there_ , because it’s all so good, the fingers questing inside you and the rough circles directly on your clit-- you just need something, if you could just, just wiggle your hips the right way and-- and Kylo increases his pace and you’re just _suspended_ in this aching mess of being so fucking close, right on that fucking edge about to cum, about to shoot halfway across the galaxy because of one man’s hand between your thighs, but you just _can’t_

And it dawns on you why. And you do cry. It’s too much, it’s physically too much- you feel like you’re this supernova that’s been frozen just before implosion and you’re trapped under the ice in a lake and you can _see_ the air but can’t reach it- can’t do anything about it. He has full control of you, of your body, in a way you never could’ve predicted. A harsh sob falls from your lips and all you can manage now is “ _please,_ ”

He’s shushing you, giving soft praise for doing so well, for lasting so long for him while he fingers are still so busy between your thighs. He keeps his powers focused on whatever he’s doing to keep your orgasm at bay, but slides his hand up your body to your neck, caress the skin he’d marked before. He meets your eyes as he presses his hand down, just a touch, just under your chin. There’s hardly an effect, but you know what he means to do. He aligns his hand so his thumb sits over the artery in your neck. He’s giving you another chance to tap out, but you’re so far gone and it feels so good and you kind of hope you never, ever have to come back. 

So he presses his thumb to that artery, softly so you’ll feel it before. And he stares into your eyes- the same blank, commanding power he had before. His lips part for his tongue to wet them, and they hang open a moment, before his voice is the only thing you can hear, and “ _Cum for me,_ ” The pressure is gone from your abdomen and the effect is immediate- you gasp this ragged sound as the wall of pleasure come crashing over your nerves, your body nearly bending in half at the waist as your entire body clenches up-- and then Kylo is pressing that thumb to your neck, the gentle weight of his arm on your neck completing the sensation. You’re a rubber band that’s been stretched to far and you’ve snapped- flying across the room-- And you’re breaking apart and being sewn back together from the inside out, and you only know Kylo’s bindings are gone because you can feel every muscle in your body clenching and jerking without any direction or purpose and god he’s still moving those fingers, still working you through it and pulling on your sore clit and you can feel more tears pushing at your eyes when he finally, _finally_ lets go of the artery and the blood rushes back to your head.

Your body twitches in aftershocks, but for the most part you feel like you can’t move- everything in your body too destroyed by whatever the fuck he’d just done to you. And he’s cupping your jaw and pressing his lips to yours- working his tongue between your lips so you can taste yourself on him still, but it’s slow and gentle- he surely must feel the incredible feeling that’s covering your body right now. Too shocked and exhausted to even make a noise, you send a wave of appreciation towards him and he lies beside you, keeping you close. 

When you feel a little less boneless and a little more human he pulls you into his lap (he’s hard, but he’s subtly telling you to ignore it), so you’re pressed sideways against his chest- your ear over his heart. He lifts your chin so you can meet his eyes-- they’re round and gentle under their almost inhuman blankness, how he’d asked you if you trusted him. His lips quirked up as he met your eyes--- you could only imagine what a mess you looked like, crying and choking and really damn good orgasm each playing a role in how absolutely wrecked you probably looked. “You alright?”

You snorted, and slurred in your post-orgasmic bliss, “that was fucking amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi to me over at [ My Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/) we can talk about like, kylo ren or kinks or something. Seriously tho feel free to leave comments with kinks and shit cause I honestly have a list of stuff I want to write for this mess. So like, go for it?????


	10. Internecine [Explicit][Rough Sex + Marking]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo intercepts a message you sent to Hux and is Not Happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from 30 Days of NSFW challenge:  
> "Rough, biting, scratching"
> 
>  **Contains** : Rough sex with no direct foreplay (kylo pls), biting, scratching, light bloodplay, LOTS of marking because that is my JAM, arguably angry sex, multiple orgasms, semi-accidental oversensitivity play

“Are you fucking Hux?”

The words snapped you out of your meditation immediately. You had been expecting Kylo- he’d told you this morning you were going to work on concentration, endurance with using the Force after he attended some business around the ship-- so you’d dressed in your almost Knightly armor and waited in the training room. And though this was the same training room where he had choked you to the point of blacking out before, you had not expected this. 

He’d pulled his helmet off at some point already, his face flushed and red- his emotional response warped in a torrent of negative emotions- _rage, jealousy, betrayal_. In his hand he held a datapad so harshly you could feel the surface threatening to shatter under his thumb. Despite your urge to laugh at the accusation (because, really? _Hux_ , the ginger general?) his deadly serious posture gave you second thoughts.

You stood to face him. “What?”

He knew you’d heard him, his lip twitching to lift in a snarl. “Are you. Fucking. Hux?” With every word he took a measure step closer- you fought the urge to move away rather than meet him head-on. You’d dealt with his rage enough, you either had to take control of the situation or let him burn himself out to speak with him calmly. And since he was between you and the door, you had little choice.

You let your own anger of his claim against your settle over your face, your brow furrowing, crossing your arms over your chest. “No. Of course not, Kylo.” 

He growled and thrust the datapad at you, “Then what the fuck is this?”

You glanced over the document displayed and immediately flushed. _He rutted against her sensitive flesh, letting those tentacles wrap around him._ What the fuck? You hadn’t sent this to Hux or- shit, wait. Maybe you had. You scrolled through the lines of increasingly familiar erotica. Yes. You had actually sent this to the General, but not as some lover’s gift, not in whatever context Kylo believed it to be in. And, fuck, you must’ve missed Hux reading it. Too bad. You huffed a laugh and held the data pad out to Kylo again. “I _translated_ that for Hux. Transmissions picked up a signal they thought was some Resistance outpost’s message encoded in Baa’ri and he asked me to translate it personally.”

His rage was still present, but he spoke slower as he took the datapad, blankly looking at the explicit words. “He asked you. To translate porn.” 

“Twi’Lek porn.” You couldn’t help but correct. “And I doubt he knew it was porn when he sent it to me. I’m not fucking Hux, Kylo.” 

His dark eyes lifted and stared at yours intently, trying to read any trace of deception. You instead tried to open your mind to him, for him to read your honesty. He placed a hand on the side of your face, fingers resting over your temple as he slipped over your consciousness. He traced through your various, brief memories associated with Hux-- pausing at the time where you’d briefly imagined it was his gloved hands touching you (just before Kylo invaded and claimed your mind and started this whole mess). When he was satisfied, his hand slid down your neck to your shoulder.

You expected him to maybe drop the subject and either leave or continue to the lesson he’d planned, but he took a step towards you, using his hand to push you back. Catching his meaning you let him walk you backwards to the wall, let him press up close to you- his towering height all the more obvious as you strained to look up at his face.

Both of his hands came up to slide into your hair, cradling your head against the odd angle of your neck. He kept gaze on yours. He spoke softly, almost reverential. Reminding himself of something sacred. “You’re mine,” The phrase was so well conditioned to be have a sexual connotation (never mind how he had you pressed against the wall) an inappropriately timed shiver of arousal slid down your spine, straight to your clit. 

Somewhere between your proximity and how open your mind was to him, he felt it. His head lowered next to your ear- your head still angled up to the ceiling as he whispered, darkly, “You’re _mine_.”

You gasped your ascent. His hands released your head to grab at your thighs, pull you up so your legs wrapped around his waist, your body caught between his and the wall. Your fingernails bit into the rough material of his cape and cowl to help support you. His lips ground against yours in a fiercely possessive kiss, his tongue practically forcing its way into your mouth- savagely sliding behind your teeth until you shivered. He nipped at your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and sinking his teeth in just short of drawing blood.

_I’ll show everyone who you belong to._

His hands returned to your hair, yanking your head back to look to the ceiling as his brutal mouth found your neck. He hips rutted against yours as he sucked a dark mark to your skin, just under your jaw. Well above your collar, the bastard. He chuckled against the reddening spot and moved just barely an inch over and bit at the skin there, repeating the process while he moved languidly against your center. 

After the third you managed to make him back off enough to wrangle his cape off- dropping it blindly to the floor. During the fourth you unbuckled his belt, by the nineth you had his armor off and you could finally feel how hard he was as he ground up into you. You lost count before he finally decided to pull your pants off (at least as best he could while you were still clinging to his hips) and shove his own clothing down just enough to free his cock. 

He didn’t pause, only positioned himself and drove into you, setting a hard, deep rhythm from the start. You clenched around him, drawing a harsh gasp at the strange mix of pain and pleasure of being fucked open too quickly. When his hands left your hair to settle on your hips, you could feel the crescent moons of his fingernails biting fiercely into your skin as his mouth went back to work on your neck, making new marks down at your collar bones, sucking hungrily at the hollow between them.

In retribution you slid your hands inside his undersuit and drew your nails down his back, slow and hard, sure to leave angry red welts in their wake- he moaned against your skin, arching his torso into yours. His teeth nipped at your jugular, happy to remind you how easily he could rip your throat out like this. Instead, his teeth sank deep into the tissue of your shoulder, into the tender trapezius muscle until he could taste blood. 

You repeated the scraping of your nails down his back, then again on his sides. He shuddered and moaned again, half muffled against your skin. You sank your nails into his shoulder blades while the other tangled in his hair to pull him up by those thick locks until his mouth found yours again. You could taste the metallic traces of blood on his lips and felt the unusual arousal it brought out in both of you. You moaned pleasantly at the memory of his vision- _he likes seeing you bloodstained_ \- and tug at his mind to reposition his hand or you’d do it yourself.

He nipped at your lip in response, but managed to slide one hand in enough to slide his thumb over your clit in time with his thrusts, nice and rough. You moaned happily, tipping your head back-- Kylo took the invitation to suck again on the spots he’d made on your neck, darkening them even more. 

When your orgasm hit, you clenched around him- legs gripping his waist like a vice- your hands pulling your body to press against his. He kept fucking you, thrusting towards his own release- but his thumb didn’t stop. As you came down Kylo’s thumbing shifted from pleasurable aftershocks into pain; your clit over sensitive and aching against his touch- you wanted to arch away from it, still too mindless to put the request into words- but he was _holding_ you and you had nowhere to go. 

You grabbed at his wrist, but all he did in response was change directions, sliding back and forth and- your clenched around him again, choking out a cry as the shock of a second orgasm wrapped itself around your body, even against the ache of your clit. Your nails bit into his wrist and his shoulder- his teeth _actually_ biting you (a groan caught in his chest) as his hips stuttered against the rippling walls of your cunt. He finally let his thumb stop and you felt him empty himself deep inside you.

You both stood there like that for a moment, just trying to catch your breath. Your thighs slipped off his waist one at a time, his hands helping lower yourself to the floor on wobbly legs. He pulled away enough for you to see the trace of blood over his chin, making your frown and try to look at the wound he’d left on you. Sometime akin to a laugh shook in his chest. “Sorry.” His fingers traced the sore flesh of your shoulder. “Put some bacta on it and you’ll be fine.” 

His fingers traced up to your neck, admiring the mottled spots you were sure existed there. You let your irritation flash to him. Neither of you had exactly _wanted_ to make it obvious you were together (not that you were explicitly hiding it, either), but it would be pretty hard not to know who had laid such an impressive claim to you like this- _well_ above your uniform’s collar.

“You can wear my shirt,” He offered, making a vague gesture towards the extremely high collar of the top he wore under his armor. “I have others.” 

You snorted. “Because wearing your clothes isn’t just as obvious as these,” making a similar gesture to your own neck. You could imagine how your coworkers would look at you, how they’d blush just to _see_ you, knowing what you’d been up to. And with whom. If you weren’t still flushed from the sex you would be just as red now. A telling smirk settled onto Kylo’s features as well. Quietly you added, “I think I’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls dont bite ur partners so hard u draw blood the human mouth has a lot of gross stuff in it (like TONGUES) and it could get infected. Also, I highly recommend multiple orgasms 10/10.
> 
> Come tell me your kinks over on [ my Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/).


	11. Proximity [Teen][Hand holding]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo mans the bridge.

You carried a scarf with you the next day, just in case you got self-conscious, but for the most part it lay loosely across your shoulders, not wrapped around to conceal anything on your neck. You’d returned to your quarters after your tryst and were equal parts shocked and impressed by the number and color of the marks Kylo had left on your skin. Makeup definitely wouldn’t help with them. 

The bite mark was another story. You easily applied some bacta and a patch to let it begin to close up and prevent infection. But you left off the anti-scarring ointment, pleased with the idea of Kylo’s teeth forever making a scarline on your shoulder. At least that was hidden below your collar. 

But ultimately you’d stuck by your low-key fantasy and left your love bites on display. No one said anything, of course. One of the translators under you had smirked when she thought you weren’t looking- approval wafted off her emotional response, something to the effect of “Fuck yeah, get it!” 

Really, you weren’t needed in your office today. You could’ve answered messages from your quarters and done as you pleased, but you did need access to your office computer to appropriately archive some intercepted messages. You were transferring such messages to the archives’ database when you felt a familiar tug at your mind- the gentle impression of someone looking over your shoulder. You smiled warmly; Kylo was checking in on you.

He continued on sitting on your shoulder- like a sort of friendly ghost, you imagined- as you typed away, tagging files with clearance ratings and languages, intercept and translate dates, so on. Boring work, but beneficial and easy to relax into. You’d almost forgotten he was there when he finally spoke in your mind.

_I’m covering the bridge. Come here._

Hux must be off-duty, then, if Kylo’s at the bridge. Rarely would they freely associate unless necessary, mostly leaving the other about their business and mostly Hux would leave one of his lieutenants in charge in his absence. Apparently, Lord Ren felt the need to exert his authority and oversee things himself for a while.

You finished the last file and turned off your station, almost missing the warmth of Kylo’s mind skirting around the edges of yours. Before leaving you threw one end of the red and black Order scarf over your shoulder, covering a hopeful majority of the marks. You closed the door behind you and motioned to the same woman as before that you were leaving. (She wondered loudly if you were going to get fucked again).

The bridge was six floors up and forward from the translations’ section. You weren’t sure why Kylo had called for you, but he didn’t seem urgent about it, not an actual command, nor was there some layer of devious energy to it (if he _did_ want to get frisky on the bridge he’d have another thing coming). Instead, even as the heavy doors to the mind of the ship opened for you, there was a calmness- even a layer of boredom off his emotional response. 

He was standing towards the back of the room, gazing blankly at the wide wall of viewports, out into the vast emptiness of space. As various techs worked in the lowered portion of the floor- and various others moved about the controls on top- you approached your lover as seriously as you could. He was, after all, on-duty and you were both at the _bridge_ , in theory a seriously professional space. 

You stood straight, your arms beside you and inquired, “Sir?”

His mask turned to you, subtly shifting as he looked down on your scarf. A touch of amusement rolled off him. With careful intention he pulled at the length hanging over your shoulder, revealing the marred skin of your neck. You blushed somewhat unprofessionally at the gesture, and he dropped his hand, returning to gaze over the personnel working upon the bridge. You shifted with uncertainty, casting an inquisitive impression to him.

_Just wanted you close._

You let a definitely unprofessional smile slide over your lips. You moved to stand beside him, close enough to occasionally brush the heavy-sewn fabric of his cowl. You stayed like that, only moving to relieve the pressure on your feet, for quite a while. 

And when the 1800 shiptime shift change rolled around, among the chaos of personnel moving about, Kylo’s gloved hand found its way into yours. He stroked from the curve of your thumb to halfway down your index finger with his leather-covered thumb, idly sending warm tendrils up your arm. Everyone in the room could see it should they look to him (not that many _chose_ to look at Kylo Ren if they could avoid it), everyone would see the marks upon your neck and your closeness and with the tenderness that he stroked your hand.

You realize for all the marks he’s left upon your skin, holding his hand was just as damning for him. He was your possession just as much as you were his. 

You really didn’t care who saw you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, after eight chapters of smut I needed a little fluff okay???
> 
> As always, come confess your sins to me at [ my Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/).


	12. Lingible [Explicit][Clothing + Oral]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the night, you put on one of Kylo's shirts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I would most definitely be interested in a chapter where Reader wears Kylos robes or the mask or whatever. Kind of like role play lol.” via _Stinaxsays_
> 
> Didn't quite make it to 'roleplay', but I hope this fulfills your request :'D
> 
>  **Contains** : You wearing Kylo's robes as he goes down on you. Romantic tbh. Drops the L-bomb, but idk if it's their first time saying it, up to your interpretation I suppose.

You ended up taking on Kylo’s offer to wear his shirt. Not really how he had intended it- as a way to cover his own markings or as some petty act of possession- but more in the sense of “it’s in the middle of the night (shiptime) and I’m naked and cold and I have to pee, let me put _something_ on” sense. Not nearly as sexy as his intentions had been. Very domestic, as it were.

Of course, Kylo’s shirt on you was absolutely massive- hanging to your thighs for how damn tall he was. Truth be told, you kind of liked it. Your Order uniform was well-fitted, very professional looking, not like the nearly unidentifiable mass of dark cloth hanging off your shoulders. It was nice. Warm against the cold nature of space, the sleeves and high collar (the one that you hated for blocking you from kissing Kylo’s neck) were pleasantly tight on your body. Even the cloth of the shirt was of a very high quality- soft and pliant against your skin. To be expected, at least, considering the scratchy nature of every other article he wore on top of his undershirt.

You returned from the ‘fresher to stand in the doorway. A long streak of light came from behind you, highlighting the form only half covered in sheets, turned on his side to watch your return. His eyes half-lidded from sleep, and you immediately felt a little guilty about apparently waking him. It was impossible to tell what nights he’d sleep like the dead and what nights he could barely stay asleep- if he did at all. Worst was when he dreamed, dark unspeakable things that held no shape other than the fear that grasped at your mind. He’d been trained to not wake from such dreams, but you hadn’t. He made sure to dampen your connection as much as he could when he slept afterwards. 

But you rather enjoyed how he looked like this. Peaceful and only half-aware of the world around him. No dreams this night, it seemed. All the little stress lines and hard facade he held he wore had melted away under the cozy embrace of unconsciousness. His dark eyes traced over your body, half-hidden under his own shirt. 

Half a smile pulled at his lips, amusement sliding off his emotional response. You seemed to catch his thought, completely unguarded. He liked the sight he’d woken to, had half mused what you’d look like in his complete outfit. In a moment of playfulness you decided to indulge him. His eyes tracked you across the room as you grabbed his outer robe off the floor and hung it over your shoulders- covering a more than the shirt did, hanging nearly to the floor. It looked more like a dress than an impressive piece of armor on you. Despite its length, long slits up the sides and front allowed your skin to peek out from under the dark fabric, the skin of your legs cheekily appearing in long swathes as you moved.

Low-key desire mixed with amusement off his emotional response, but he made no attempt to move, happy to let you continue with your little display. You raised an eyebrow at this reaction. You’d been more naked without the robe (and stark naked before you woke), but you could definitely play along with this. You grabbed his cowl and pulled it over your shoulders, letting the hood hang partially over your face. Your expression fought into something like cold indifference, a touch of condescension. You raised your arms, making ‘Well? What do you think?’ gesture, twirling to let robe and cowl float around you dramatically. 

Kylo rumbled low in his chest, sliding off the bed to stalk towards you. Like a predator- was he never not one?- you wondered- even naked he seemed intimidating. He must’ve caught that- he huffed half a laugh, before coming to stand directly in front of you- your head tilting up to gaze at him from under his own hood. He let his hands settle on your waist and the edges of a smile curve at his lips. His voice rough and low from sleep as he lowered his face to yours. “Not nearly as intimidating without pants.” 

His lips were soft and slightly chapped, moving with unhurried motions against yours. He slid his tongue over your lips and you happily obliged him, letting your tongues tangle slowly. You settled one arm around his shoulders while the other tangled in his hair. He finally broke the kiss, moving to rub his cheek against your hair (you thought of a cat marking its territory with its scent). More breathless than you realized, you responded half in jest and half to lure him back to kissing you to keep you silent. “Really? I thought the mask would’ve been more important.” 

Something devious settled on his face- you rather liked the look on him. “Oh, the mask is very important.” One of his hands dragged down, away from your waist, finding the slits in his own armor to drag the pads of his fingers over your thighs, pushing up and under the thick cloth. He moved no higher, just tracing innocuous designs against your skin to watch you shiver. “But armor isn’t very effective without pants.” 

Fighting to keep your voice even and your hips still, “Effective against what, exactly?” 

The hand traced higher, happy to follow the crease between hip and thigh and then inward still, just teasingly sliding over your sex- a ghost of a touch, barely there at all, staying well away from anything you really wanted him to touch. Just teasing. Kylo hummed in his chest, eyes flicking over your face, something like pride slipping off him. Your confusion at that must’ve echoed back to him, “You look gorgeous as a Knight.” His lips caught yours again, more forceful than before-- his roaming fingers gained a little pressure as he stroked against a spot between your clit and your entrance.

With his mouth on yours, you switched over to your mental connection, slightly concerned. _Thought I wasn’t going to be a Knight._

Kylo sucked on your lower lip, in response, laving it with his tongue. Instead of replying in kind- through the Force- he let go and spoke aloud- his lips brushing yours as his fingers circled your clit, “You will join them eventually.” His lips immediately resumed their conquest, but greater concern laced through you, unable to completely relax into his touch. The Knights were sent on missions alone for the most part- far from one another except for rare occasions that typically only came down to simply sharing transport across the galaxy. Did Kylo actually want that for you…?

 _Shhh,_ He lured you back to the physical world to trace his free hand over your cheek, drawing you away from your thoughts just enough to meet his eyes. “You will never leave my side. Only you will ever be my equal.” Your cheeks warmed with nothing to do with your arousal and a tender smile spread over your lips. You reached up and kissed him. It only lasted for a moment. 

He purposely walked you backwards to a wall and fell to his knees--- even kneeling he was so ridiculously tall, almost too tall for his intentions- and pushed his own armor away from your skin. Without hesitation he presses his lips to your body once more, his hands pulling at your hips and angle your body how he wanted. Yet his mouth was kind, soft and unhurried as he tasted you, as he licked and suckled at the sensitive skin he found there.

You hands immediately fell to his hair- not to grind against him, but to quietly encourage him and perhaps because you couldn’t bear to keep your hands off him for even a moment. He hummed contentedly against your thigh as you tangled your fingers in his soft locks.

He worked at you slowly, reverently. Taking his time to lavish every inch of flesh he could reach before pressing two fingers into you, lazily sending his admiration and hopes towards your mind- the brief images conjured echoing against the physical pleasure being wrought on your body. He curled his fingers and sucked at your clit, lapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves in time with his strokes. It wasn’t about an orgasm, you knew. It wasn’t about the culmination of physical sensation into one overwhelming moment. With the way he was pressing against your mind so warmly, it was simply about the contact. About the entire event, about pleasing you. 

You let your head fall back and fill with his own thoughts- the taste of your wetness on his tongue, how hot you were around his fingers. How the Knights would look at you once your training was complete- how they’d be forced to respect you and your power just as they respected him. How you looked with your head thrown back, cheeks flushed, mouth hanging open to pant. The sound of all the little noises you didn’t realize you were making- little whines and pants sliding from your lips unbidden. You sent your own image back to him; the sight before you- him- _Kylo Ren_ \- on his knees before you, half hidden under his own armor just to bury his face between your thighs. His hair a disheveled mess, his own cheeks flushed- mouth and chin shining from his efforts in the low light.

He moaning at the image- the vibrations of his voice going straight to your clit. He met your eyes for a moment, a hot second of promises of the future- unspoken by either means. Unuttered words of a lifetime spent together, unvoiced vows of loyalty beyond any other call in the galaxy. Neither of you finding the courage to point out they were, in fact, nearly treasonous notions when one is sworn to an organization and fighting a war.

He pulled you over that edge with the mute, raw emotions radiating off him- bright as any star in the galaxy. You wondered if you’d burn up if you stayed like this too long. He carried you through the aftershocks with his tongue, caressing your clit until your thighs stopped shaking. He wanted to kiss his way back up your body, amused that the very thing that started this intimacy was now impeding him. Even as he rose to his feet he found himself irritated that his own high-collared shirt was blocking him from kissing your neck where his marks on you had finally begun to fade. You wanted to ask him how it felt to finally be the one blocked from touching his lover’s skin.

Instead you pulled him down to a proper kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Slow and sensual just as his kiss had been before. When you pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours, your noses aligned side by side, your breath mingling between your closely pressed bodies. You touched his face, so long and pale, marked with a moles- designed with a darkly aristocratic sense about him. “I love you, Kylo Ren. I always will.”

You could feel something in him begin to break- a lifetime of feeling unwanted, only useful as a tool or for his power had worn down any tolerance he had for affection. When he spoke to you of your future together he always emphasized the power of your combined forces, the physical intimacy you shared. He couldn’t explain the emotions that drove you together in the first place, so strangely foreign to him. So you wrapped your arms around his body and drew him impossibly closer until your signatures in the Force were indistinguishable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, come poke me at [ my Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/)


	13. [MINI]Defile: [Explicit][Pissing off Hux]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Kylo have some fun in Hux's office. Featuring Hux and Hux’s coat and Hux’s hat and Hux’s desk.
> 
> Sorry not sorry.  
> Unedited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted a thing on Tumblr and someone just HAD to go an encourage me.  
> "Defiling Hux's coat sounds like a good and righteous thing" via _somepsychocandytalking_
> 
> So here's a MINI-chapter, totally unplanned for.  
>  **Contains** : Inappropriate treatment of military clothing honestly.

“I'm so glad you got the hat.” You pulled the thick material back up over your shoulders. It was so large, even on the General, that it continued to slip down your arms and back, revealing your sweat-soaked skin to the chilled air of the _Finalizer_. “I love this hat.” From Kylo’s relentless pace Hux’s once pristine hat should’ve fallen off, but one or both of you kept holding it in place, effectively crumpling it.

It was, of course, the only clothing either of you had on as you laid over Hux’s desk- his various professional possessions pushed aside to make room for your devious plan.

You hadn’t quite caught was the General had done to displease Kylo- but at the very least the Knight wasn’t taking his rage out on some innocent part of the ship or injuring personnel. No, he went straight to the source on this one-- spoke directly to your mind that you were to meet him in Hux’s office as quickly as you could. 

He wasted no time in handing you Hux’s coat and hat and _informed_ you that you were going to make a mess today. You had no bad blood with the General-- he had been your commander before the Knight-- but, well. You certainly wouldn’t say no to fucking on Hux’s desk. In Hux’s clothes.

Kylo lifted one of your legs onto higher onto his hip, moving deeper inside you as he folded your body to suck at the fading marks around your neck-- darkening the claims he’d made to your skin. You tangled a hand in his wild, dark hair and let the other grab at the edge of the desk.

You bit your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, already aware that the sound of Hux’s desk rhythmically thumping the floor would give away exactly what had happened in the room if anyone happened to be passing too close by the door- which both of you were holding closed with the Force, should anyone try to enter. 

Kylo’s mouth moved lower to wrap his lips around your nipple while his thumb circled quickly around your clit. You couldn’t have stopped from crying out as you shook and clenched around him even if you’d wanted to. 

 

 

 

 

Hux had been called down to engineering with a holomessage of his chief engineer stating that something very serious was happening and that it needed to be explained in person. Hux had rubbed at his temple- the argument he had with Ren earlier still agitating his growing migraine. Engineering was twenty floors down and all the way aft. If it was so serious he didn’t have much choice- left everything of his at his desk to see what exactly the problem was.

He should’ve known for how strangely monotonous the engineer’s voice had been despite the ‘urgency’ of the situation. When Hux arrived- nearly fifteen minutes later- the engineer had looked startled at the General’s seemingly random appearance and had insisted that there was nothing wrong at all, but he could, of course run some diagnostic-- to be sure, General.

Hux’s jaw clenched. Ren wouldn’t just waste his time- he had something else planned. He strode back to the lifts with long strides. 

His desk had been put back together, most of his items returned to their rightful place. Except, of course, his coat and hat, which lay folded and crumpled in his chair- stinking of sex.

Hux immediately began plans to publicly murder Ren.


	14. Sunrise [Explicit][Lazy Morning Sex]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo wakes you up in the mornings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from 30 Days of NSFW challenge:  
> "Lazy Morning Sex"
> 
> (also someone requested morning sex and i didnt write down who it was, so, sorry and thank you??)
> 
>  **Contains** : I accidentally started some of the angst early, sorry about that. Lazy morning sex and Kylo still can't talk about his feelings and so you have to be the mature one :(

You woke to the unmistakable sensation of a warm dick hard against your ass and the subtle rocking of its length against your skin. His hand- wrapped loosely around your waist from behind- was sliding almost soothingly over your belly, just above your pubic bone. His lips were dragging across your shoulder in a dance of light, lazy kisses. You figured he was awake. You mumbled what was meant to be “good morning”- unsure if you had spoken in Basic and too tired to care-- and half twisted your spine to kiss at Kylo’s face- he met you halfway in a quiet, lax kiss. He pulled at your waist till you rolled completely to face him, his hand tracing up your leg, moving you so that you would rest your knee on his hip. This position, you realized, gave him full access to your sex.

As his fingers once again found your center, already growing wet from his unhurried touch. You wanted to laugh- three times in less than a day. “You're insatiable.” You murmur, grinning into his kiss, skimming your fingertips over his chest and shoulders. “Won’t you ever get tired of having me?” 

You had intended the comment to be lighthearted, a soft jest in these early hours, and with being able to read one another’s emotions so easily there wasn’t much availability for error. But his questing hand- leisurely sliding two fingers into you- did not pause as he met your eyes. With every ounce of seriousness one can rouse this early in the morning, “Never.” 

Only then did you wake enough to pick up on his emotional response; overwhelming with desire and affection as per your current situation. But what alarmed you was there was something else, a ghost in the code of his mind- an undercurrent, deeply buried under his active thoughts (mostly consisting of how much he wanted to be inside you). You caught the slightest brush of it- something much more cold and bitter than the warm, pliant body pressed against yours.

He met your kiss again, urging you back to the physical world for the moment. You pushed his hand away from your body so you could reposition yourself against him- awkward from the position you’re in together, but doable. He watched your face as you slid onto him; you let your eyes close and sighed at once again being filled by him. On your sides, facing each other like this there wasn’t much availability for thrusting, nothing to press limbs against for decent leverage, but for the physical intimacy the position provided (and your own residual morning grogginess) you didn’t bother to tell him to roll either way, instead confined yourself to mostly lazily rocking and grinding against each other. Which for as tired as you both still were was perfect, happy to hold the other close, to press your lips together again, to roll and circle your hips against him. So close together that your clit was rubbing against Kylo’s abdomen with every motion, leaving you breathless against every twitch of his hips. One of Kylo’s hands settled onto your waist, guiding your motions in time with his so your clit was constantly grinding against him- his other hand was curling around the back of your neck to press your lips harder to his.

You let your hands follow similar paths, one to settle at the base of his skull, holding his lips to yours while admiring his hair (you let a vague thought of how nice his hair was slip by and a pleased grin curved against your lips). The other hand skirted over his torso, up and down repeatedly, following the outlines of muscles and scars alike, thumbing at his nipple for a moment, before moving to his back and trying to pull him closer, so that every inch of your bodies could touch. Only then did a familiar heat began to build, prompting you to give a soft moan against Kylo’s lips.

He half-rolled you into a slightly odd position, his hand on your hip supporting the strange angle: Your shoulders were mostly on the bed, but your hips were angled up, somewhere between on your back and on your side (one of your knees still clamped onto Kylo’s hip, calf wrapping around his thigh)-- Kylo had followed this movement, planting one foot on the bed to give him just enough leverage to give weak, shallow thrusts. 

The effect was immediate, for as light as the movement was, it was new and strange and how he’d angled himself let his cock brush against the spot on your front wall repetitively and while you kept your proximity, you let the pleasant rub of his skin against your clit pull you over with a pleased groan, only to have the noise be swallowed by Kylo’s mouth. With your walls rippling and clenching around him in orgasm, he was soon behind, spilling deep inside your body. 

When he let go of your hip you fell completely onto your back, partially under Kylo’s weight. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, he was warm and wasn’t jutting any sharp bones into you. You laid like that for a while, your hands still mindlessly stroking whatever skin you happened to be touching. He eventually shifted eventually to face you, folding one arm under his chin while he laid on his front-- letting the hand that had held your hip come up to trace over your rib cage and side. 

“How could I ever tire of you?” His eyes were soft, searching yours for something. A vaguely dour melancholic wave passed off him, despite your residual orgasmic highs.

You wanted to clarify that you had been kidding, but knew it was needless. He had seen the future, after all; he _wouldn’t_ tire of you, by his own vision. Instead you laid a hand on his face, tracing over his cheekbones with your knuckles. 

_Sometimes I wonder if you’re even real_. You weren’t sure what to make of him reverting to speaking in your mind- but pleased nonetheless at his warm presence there. 

You let a wry smile pull at your lips. _I’m very real, I’m fairly sure._ The hand on your ribs raised to your face, tracing under your lower lip before circling around to move over them directly- you kissed the pad of his thumb as it passed over.

From the look in his eyes and the tense quiet of his emotional response he wanted to say something else, like he’s trying to fit emotions and thoughts into words. Ultimately he passed his confusing emotions onto you, raw and vague and wordless-- past the brittle but deep-rooted melancholy you felt earlier is the warmth you’ve come to associate with Kylo- but directed at you _from_ him. He replays your sentence from the previous night (or, really, this morning) to you, replays the emotional upheaval that had been sparked in him. You knew what he wanted to say to you and you knew he felt it too. And yet he felt too broken and _dark_ to completely be able to believe your own words or his own feelings. 

You wished to tell him a hundred times, to repeat yourself again and again until he believed you. But the quantity of it did not matter- it was question of endurance. 

There was another memory in there, attached to the bitter concern he shrouded himself in. When he felt you prod at it he pulled away, mentally, pushing the memory behind a barrier. It wasn’t the first you’d encountered in Kylo’s mind- any time you peeked at something about his childhood the entire memory was locked out- buried under a mountain of dark energy that you couldn’t bear to dig through. You figured for those he’d tell you when or if he was ready to. 

But those were of things long past- old wounds and gnarled scars that hadn’t been allowed to heal properly under the pressure of the barriers he hid them under. But this one- this one was _fresh_. Something had happened _recently_ and he didn’t want you to know. You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt-- as illogical as it was. He couldn’t tell you everything, nor did you expect him to. He was secretive and mysterious by nature, it was how he’d gotten so far in his career, but there was something personal about this.

His expression fell and his voice was quiet in your mind, stiff with a strange insecurity of having to bare himself before you. The raw pain attached to allowing oneself to be vulnerable. _I’m afraid._

You filtered confusion and an inquisition towards him, bundled up in support- you would do anything to help him.Before, He’d told you that the Dark side was driven by strong emotions, that your own fear could be used as strength if you knew how to redirect it. But the Knight before you did not look empowered by this fear, only at a loss for it. 

He nodded minutely at your thoughts and continued. _I’m afraid to lose you._ His thumb stroked over your cheek. Your brow furrowed. He’d seen you together in the future- likely quite a while in the future considering the status of your training- how could…? _Something has changed in the Force._

“Did you have another vision?” The words fell from your mouth before you’d registered thinking them. 

His expression and emotional response fell- a hesitation and wave resultant concern- touched by a certain stubborn anger were shrouding your mind. And then, they didn’t. His face fell into the stoicism you associated with his mask; his emotional response nearly shut down- it took you a moment to realize what exactly had happened. He’d put his shields up. He’d put his shields up _against you_. 

“No. I didn’t have. A vision.” He draw away, untangling his limbs from your lover’s knot and stood, beginning to dress in his dark, concealing robes. “I have a meeting I need to attend.”

A slap would’ve hurt less than this. This… you didn’t know how to handle. You’ve seen him varying degrees of angry, from a low smoldering of irritation to the boiling, destructive rage where he could only see red. You’d seen him vulnerable and raw. But this… he wore his emotions on his sleeve- _embraced_ them for their relevance to the Dark’s power- his emotions and thoughts always so loud and forceful compared to your own or anyone else’s. And he was shutting you out- leaving you to a quiet world without even that warm, thin connection that you could feel all the way across the ship. Completely ignoring you as he pulled on layers of cloak and armor.

There wasn’t anything to do about it, if you were honest. He was stubborn and rash and volatile- if you pushed him to tell you he’d push right back. As with everything else in his mind that he kept locked away under those dark barriers, if it was important, he’d tell you sooner or later. So there it was. Patience, you decided. 

So you summoned your emotions, presented the concern and annoyance and warped them in affection- a primal way to tell him that was why you were worried in the first place, because you _cared_. And you pressed that affection back against his shields, knowing he would feel your response even when he had his shut away. He paused in the doorway to the sitting room, to look at you once more before he would put his helmet on and become Lord Ren for the day. Through the smallest lift of his shields he projected a quiet peal of apologetic intentions and a single thought: _My robes smell like you_.


	15. Unknown [Teen][?????]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up in bed with someone who is very, definitely _not_ Kylo Ren.
> 
> More mentions of Hux/Reader and Phasma/Reader. Everyone is gay.
> 
> This turned out kind of crack-y and I apologize.

You wake up with your face buried in hair. Not that this wasn’t a regular occurance considering the sheer _volume_ of the obsidian locks that rest atop your lover’s head. Your lover, however, did not have short, fire-red ginger hair. Nor did he have chilled, condescending and very, very green eyes.

For a moment, your heart stopped cold in your chest. You couldn’t move at all other than to stare back at the picture before you. Red hair and green eyes.The worst possible scenario raked through your mind at lightning speed-- fighting every neuron to produce some sort of logical, reasonable answer to the strange predicament you found yourself in. As adrenaline poured through your sleep-addled brain you (thankfully) dismissed the most glaring possibility based on several observations: 

First and foremost, had you actually somehow slept with the General in _your_ room, stars- _Kylo’s_ quarters-- Kylo would’ve known immediately through your mind’s connection. And if he hadn’t known, he would’ve seen very soon after. Considering you were both in perfect living, functioning order nor was there a screaming, raging Knight destroying things near you, this proved very unlikely. (You noted, also, it would be unlikely for Hux to stay the night for the same reason). 

Second, you had no memory of nor any previous particular plans of sleeping with Hux. You did not have a hangover or any recollections of drinking or any other strange events or omens from the previous night-- only your regular bedtime rituals with Kylo. 

Third, and most important in dismissal and eradication of this horrid scenario that had pilfered your mind: your ginger companion was not _just_ ginger with green eyes like the uptight commander. She- yes, a girl, Hux had insisted- had whiskers and a cute pink nose.

The _second_ to worst possible scenario followed and you bolted upright, apparently disturbing your bed partner by the small, inhuman noise that followed. Kylo had gone beyond simple petty acts of revenge (like soiling Hux’s favorite coat and hat on top of his desk), but had stepped up the game and resorted to _catnapping_. Theft! Of the General’s beloved pet! 

A warm laugh filtered into the back of your mind. You scowled at him, not wanting to be involved with whatever horrible scheme he’d produced. _Hux is attending to business on Starkiller for a few days. We’re cat sitting._

The gears of your mind ground to a halt as you processed his words. Beside you, Millicent bathed her face with measured, repetitive passes of her paw. _You volunteered for cat sitting?_

_No. She wanted company so I allowed her in our quarters. Don’t bother leaving, I’ll return soon._ Company? You couldn’t imagine Millicent wanting company, but perhaps she usually sat with Hux around this time.

Neither of you- humans nor animal- responded. You calmly watched the ginger cycle through licking her white-socked paw and stroking her face, occasionally blinking at you tiredly. You liked cats, they’re soft and quiet and don’t get in the way, but you had a healthy respect for Millicent. She was similar to her owner in more ways than just her appearance- she was astoundingly pragmatic and completely unconcerned with others unless her goals seemed to coincide with her own. She wasn’t afraid to bite and claw at whoever had displeased her. The only person whose company she seemed to remotely, honestly enjoy was the General’s. 

Of course, maybe you were reading too much into typical feline behavior. Maybe she just didn’t care.

You held your hand out towards her, allowed her a sniff to make sure you weren’t some enemy, and cautiously stroked her back- watching as the fur rippled under your hand. You laid back down how you had woken up- returning your face to lie beside the ginger fur that had so startled you. Millie didn’t seem to mind, just continued on with her bath- moving to chew on her claws. 

Sure enough, Kylo returned several minutes later, carrying what appeared to be a bag of cat food. His large, cloaked and masked form appeared in the doorway and you raise your head up to meet his gaze as best you can from under the black visor. In lieu of greetings Kylo dropped the bag and pressed the releases to his mask- laying it on the otherwise bare nightstand. Without shedding any of those ridiculous layers, he settled behind you on the bed. He seemed to think for a moment and then laid down, shifting until he was curled behind you, letting one hand slip around your waist. His other reached over your head to scratch at Millicent’s neck. She purred loudly and stretched her neck out encouragingly.

You forced yourself to not think of whatever had been bothering Kylo- you focused only on the slow press against your back as he breathes in and out, rhythmic and regular. How on every exhale through his nose his breath causes your hair to tickle your neck. You focused on Millicent’s breathing, too, quicker than yours and Kylo’s, and how her fur shifts around the two hands resting in the sea of short, ginger hairs. You focus on the weight of Kylo’s hand on your waist and how nice it is to simply lie in bed and do nothing, think of nothing except the warm bodies on either side of you. No painful workouts or new developments of your Force power. No overbearing messages that needed translation- no awkward glances from those who knew whose room you slept in each night. Just. A quiet shroud of contentment covering the room, your bodies, your thoughts. 

When you’ve lost track of time and Millicent has curled up to properly sleep- her body curled around in a circle with her nose tucked into her tail- a little farther away than you two, he speaks. “Did you want to?” 

“What? Cat sit?” You don’t turn to look at him, nor does he seem to want to- both happy to exist in this tranquil moment. “It’s no big deal. Millicent doesn’t need much care.” 

“No, fuck Hux.”

“ _What?_ ” You almost snap your neck for how violently you looked over your shoulder. Not that it mattered; Kylo’s head was too low behind you to see, his face caught in your hair. You floundered for his emotional response- still well-guarded, but looser and more available. He was being genuine, he honestly wanted to know and that’s just fucking weird. “Kylo I still have the marks from when you accused me of sleeping with him.” 

“That’s different.” He rubs his forehead against your neck, his nose sliding across your skin in a strangely endearing motion. When he speaks like this his lips brush your shoulder. “I get the appeal, despite how insufferable he is. Attractive, powerful, restrained. Wanting to make him lose that well kept control.” 

You huff a laugh. “Sounds like you’re the one who wants to fuck him.”

You’d spoken briefly, bonded over your shared… predilections. Taking an interest in those not strictly of the (traditionally) opposite sex was not looked down upon in any remotely civilized society-- Republic _or_ Imperial space. Especially considering how many species’ concepts of gender and sexuality were a far cry from humanity’s, most worlds hardly cared what was in whose pants. But it still did not make up a large portion of the human population, and it still confused many of those who did not feel the same way. 

Kylo had confessed the first person he’d ever kissed was another boy, an older kid he’d grown up with. When his gaze grew unfocused and distant, a note of despondent irritation fluttering off him, you didn’t press for more information. Instead, you told him of your interest in Captain Phasma. You’d seen her when she was working out, all lean muscle and military rigidity. Short, white-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

Considering the frequent, high-tension animosity between the commanders you wouldn’t be surprised if some sort of low-key mutual attraction didn’t play some part in it. 

“Did you know that- officially- a _riding crop_ is part of his uniform?” Against your own will, your body reacted to the thought: the ginger general holding with his crop and the look on his face that said he knew exactly how to use it. A dark laugh came from behind you, and you swore at him mentally. The hand he held over your waist dipped lower, began to slide under the elastic of your pants--

“Don’t you dare.” He froze immediately, though you made no move to physically stop him. You sheepishly backed off, placing a hand comfortably over his own, pushing a playful tone to your voice. “Not in front of Millicent. Have some decency, Kylo.” 

He hummed, replacing his hand where it had been before, interlocking your fingers, and laying a kiss to your shoulder. You returned to quiet silence, only a little uneasy from his question. But his emotional response- what you could pick up, anyway- was contented, mostly. The undercurrent you’d felt before was still there, but barely, you had to work for even just that trace of it. He’d kept it locked down tight. The pause between conversation was shorter than before.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“No.” Well. It was worth a shot anyway. He’d tell you when he was ready. Millicent made a noise in her sleep. The silence was even shorter this time, but too long to just be considered a pause. “Really though, would you? Sleep with Hux?”

You made some sort of exasperated noise, “Why? I don’t understand why you’re even asking. I’ve only ever thought of him in any sort of sexual context _once_. And that was because I was trying not to think of you!” You sighed, pressing closer against him. “I’m not going to cheat on you.” 

“I’m not suggesting you _cheat_ on me. I’m suggesting that between the two of us we could probably seduce him. If you wanted to.” 

No hesitation, no inflection. Point-blank. It catches you so completely off guard you bark out a laugh, your hands coming up to cover your face. The mighty Kylo Ren who makes the all-powerful, all-encompassing Force bend to his will, wanted to invite his only peer on the ship and your boss for a threesome. 

“Only if we ask Phasma, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like. Idk where I'd put them (because I sort of had a plan for where I wanted certain chapters to go) but 
> 
> yay or nay for Kylo/Reader/Hux and Kylo/Reader/Phasma???
> 
> (also kylo totally kissed poe)


	16. Sanguine [Explicit][Blood + Periodplay]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother Nature gives you her blessing, so you punch her in the face. OR: Cramps are awful and Kylo helps!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh. Sorry? 
> 
> **Contains** : Periodplay, Bloodplay (Kylo purposesly spreads blood around, so it ends up like everywhere tbh), fingering, oral, vaginal sex, also one very concerned droid.

You should’ve known, really. Any day now your required yearly update would roll around. You’d been through this song and dance before. It was a well-oiled machine, the little implant in your arm. Well regulated and predictable and you just really, really wish you had set a reminder to tell you when you needed to have to replaced so you could avoid such a mess.

At least, you thought, it was simpler to only have to viciously clean your sheets once a year rather than every month or so. But you hadn’t bleed all over _your_ sheets, you’d bleed on the bed you shared. 

You had woken in the middle of the night-cycle, blinking and peering to the wall module for what time it was. Two hours before your alarm was set to wake you. You rubbed a hand over your eyes, trying to figure out what had woken you- it didn’t feel like a random brush with consciousness. You looked to your lover, asleep on his back, his full lips slightly parted, the sheets twisted around him in the evidence of a fitful sleep- dreaming again, probably. Maybe he’d moved and it had woken you?

You began to settle down again, eager to get those extra two hours of sleep when- “Oh, _fuck_ ,” you whined. You curled instinctively around your belly, hands pressing against the soft flesh in a meager attempt to assuage the sudden pain. _Cramps_. Shit! You dipped one hand into your underclothes and- even in the dark of the room you could see the unmistakable stain over your fingers. You groaned and flopped heavily back on the pillow, earning a half-hearted, half-conscious noise from Kylo. Your implant’s time was up, it seemed. No point in waiting around, was probably best to get the sheets and pants off now before the blood could dry and ruin everything. For all the technological and medical advances in the world there was still not a perfect way to remove a blood stain from cloth. 

You stood and ordered the lights to twenty percent- despite the low change in brightness Kylo still moaned and hid his face under his dark hair, just awake enough to reach out for you with the Force- sending an inquiry. You didn’t respond directly, just projected a vague sense of ‘go back to sleep’.

You stripped off pants and underwear alike, using the wall module to call a service droid. Kylo’s inquiry still hung, unsatisfied with your non-answer, and this time brushing against your mind more assuredly- feeling it as another muscle spasm of your abdomen wrought a nauseating wave of pain and very nearly brought you to your knees had you not already been leaning on the wall. With any relief at all you pressed your face to the cool surface of the wall and focused on literally anything except your rebelling uterus.

He’d felt it; the pain of the cramp. Of course he had. Panic poured off his emotional response, flooding the room before you could even reach for him. He was up in an instant- adrenaline pushing him to seek you out, put pressure on the wound, call for a medical droid, grab his saber and eviscerate whoever had harmed you-- His hands found only warm skin, he spun you around to look at him and he probed forcefully, but still he saw no wound on your belly. At least he was pushing on your abdomen hard enough that he had quelled the pain somewhat. Confusion passed over his mind and into yours, before pausing, looking down- to your thighs.There was a short burst of emotional static that rolled off him that was equivalent of a weighty “Oh” and silenced the previous overwhelming sense of panic.

You nodded mutely against the wall. “Sorry for the sheets,” You mumbled, getting your balance back from the vicious cramp. He didn’t acknowledge your apology except for the smallest movement of his shoulders that could’ve been mistaken for a shrug. One large hand left your abdomen to stroke your neck in a comforting gesture. You couldn’t read his face from this angle and in this lighting, but the touches on your neck and abdomen sent little whispers of sympathy and concern. You made a vague gesture to the red stains down your legs. “Need to shower,” 

“You can barely stand. You’re not going anywhere.” You could’ve objected, pointed out the hot water would soothe some of these untimely aches, but Kylo was already pulling you back to bed, back to the dark stain on the already dark sheets. You flushed in embarrassment. At his urging you laid back down- on your side, legs clenched together. He sat upright beside you, one hand rubbing at your stomach while the other stroked your hair. He was _worried_ , you knew without having to read his emotional response. Guess he’d never had a live-in partner before. You kind of wanted to laugh and tell him that prior to the First Order’s mandate on birth control implants you basically had to deal with this every month- but another muscle spasm killed the words before they got to your throat, releasing only a pitiful whine.

He didn’t bother speaking, just cut to the chase and reached through your memories- your knowledge of your own cycle and body to find what he needed. The intrusion wasn’t any worse than what was happening in your uterus, but it was still rude to not even just ask you while you sat in front of him. But you didn’t have the energy to fight him right now, you obligingly presented him with the image of a hot object to place against your abdomen, to forcibly relax the muscles. That helped, usually. And then you’d just go and get your implant replaced later today, once the uprising in your body had been quelled somewhat.

But he kept digging, searching for anything else? really, anything? at all? he could do. Like an overeager, hovering parent to a newborn- desperate to see you healthy and safe and happy when there really wasn’t anything he could do to help. Mostly just drugs, hot water bottles, and long naps would get you through the worst of it. This, this suggesting of just, giving up _frustrated_ him, judging by the growing tension in his shoulders. You rubbed at his bicep, trying to soothe him instead. _I’m okay._

_I don’t like to see you hurt_. He supplied simply. 

You tried to recall anything he could do for you, since he seemed to insistent on helping-- you recalled an old Extranet article you’d read after just starting your period. Your face flushed and you pushed the image away. Too late! The warm presence in your mind had seen it- fought for the memory, catching just enough information from the simulated voice of a medical text: _orgasms can relieve…_

He pulled away, mentally and physically cocking his head as he considered this. 

You shook your head, too ashamed at this whole situation to believe this was actually happening. “Kylo, _no_ , it’s-”

“It’s no different than this,” He touched the thin scar on your shoulder- where he had bitten you so hard he’d drawn blood. The hand that had been on your belly trailed downwards slightly, just brushing the top of the patch of curly hair between your thighs. “It’s all you. It makes no difference to me.” 

He sends you an image- delicate and swirling, like smoke. The vision he’d had where you stood on a battlefield, covered in blood and how desperately he’d wished to kiss you. Then another image- how you looked after he’d kissed you with your blood on his lips, from the bitemark his finger still danced over. 

_He thinks you look beautiful like this. He likes seeing you bloodstained_. “Fuck.” An involuntary wave of arousal returned, your hips shifting against the hand that was trailing so close to the source of your problems. What’s worse is he was probably right: an orgasm would help with the cramping- make some of those muscles calm down for a bit- or at least distract you from the pain for a while. And he had the audacity to _smirk_ at you- making some dismissive Force gesture with his hand- you felt the wave of energy that caused the door’s manual lock to fall into place.

You groaned and dropped your head onto the pillows, half already surrendered to his great scheme of bloody orgasms. Stupid fucking Knight and his stupid fucking blood fetish because, surely, that had to be what this was. How could anyone ever be into something as- as- shameful and _dirty--_

“It’s not.” He spoke, pushing you to lie flat on the bed as he positioned himself between your legs once more. “It’s natural. It’s part of you.” He repeated. You didn’t bother voicing that you really wish it wasn’t a part of you. His hand moved down, strictly touching your outer labia and the thick hairs that resided there- that had been coated in viscous, dark blood. 

You hissed even at this miniscule contact, wanting to jerk away. “Sensitive,” you warned him. He didn’t verbally acknowledge your statement, but he slowed his hand and lightened his touch, letting you warm up to the sensation. He brushed against your inner labia and you could feel the thick liquid he moved with the touch. 

You thought he would proceed from there in his usual foreplay style. Instead, he brought his freshly blood-coated fingers up and wiped them just below your belly button- leaving a dark smear that he continued to work with his fingers as though it were a piece of art. You whined at just the sight of it, “ _Kylo_ ,” 

“You wanted to shower anyway.” He didn’t look to you as he moved the blood around, watching how your skin was slowly painted pink. Softly, a murmur: “You’re so beautiful,” This wasn’t directed at you. It was just… an observation, a fact he’d discovered and voiced aloud. You flushed under the intensity of his words, a fresh touch of desire whispering at your body. In response to your growing arousal, you winced as another trickle of blood left your body. His fingers returned to your sex to swipe it up, careful to avoid your entrance and clit- two places definitely too oversensitive to stimulate directly just yet. 

Instead he leaned on his free hand to reach up to your chest-- he left a red streak between your breasts. You shivered as it began to immediately dry on your skin. His hand moved to cup one breast- leaving more red stains and- you winced again as he started a little rough- but easily found a tender pressure that allowed a pleasant tingling to begin in your abdomen, replacing the continuous ache of overstrained muscles. His lips gently found the opposite nipple, laving and caressing the flesh as it relaxed in the heat of his mouth. With his hand he tweaked your nipple a little rougher than was strictly pleasurable, but leaned further upwards and caught your lips in a kiss and-- his hand cupped your jaw. You could smell the metallic tang of your own blood at the proximity. 

Kylo pulled away and trailed two fingers under your lips. You knew, by nature, there should be little blood left on them at this point- most would’ve been rubbed off on your chest or face by now. So, you took a risk. Your tongue darted out, briefly, and lapped at the two digits that lingered by your mouth. Truth be told, it wasn’t awful- just the increasingly familiar taste of blood and iron with a slight sweetness from your arousal. More important was Kylo’s reaction. 

His pupils- already wide from the darkness and from his own lust- expanded so quickly there was hardly a ring of brown iris left to contain them. He drew in a shaking breath, lips parting at the sight. You repeated the action, drawing his fingers into your mouth and cleaning them with your tongue. He half-closed his eyes and fucking _moaned_ this filthy, obscene noise straight from his throat, followed by a rough, dark, “ _Good._ Just like that.” The praise sent shivers down your spine.

He kissed you again- harder- before moving off your lips and down your body- leaving a trail of red marks from sucking and love nips from jaw to belly. At least they weren’t as dark as those still healing on your neck. When he reached your navel he spent a moment to dutifully lap the blood he’d smeared there off, and when the skin was shiny slick with only his spit he moved further down.

He heeded your previous notice and started very slow, very gentle. Tracing the tip of his tongue along the overly tender folds, warming your nerves up to having something touch them. He was conscientious to not touch anything he was not intending to, showing an exorbitant amount of control before he delicately pressed his tongue inside you. You again winced at the sensitivity of your own body, but it was a welcome intrusion as the heat began to build between your thighs.

You nearly jumped off the bed and out of his reach- his nose brushed your clit accidentally sending a lightning bolt of confusing pleasure and pain up your spine. As an apology he slid his tongue up and grazed the sensitive nub, making you jerk in his arms again and hiss- and then he _continued_ to work his tongue over your clit until you built something resembling a tolerance to it. At least enough tolerance to not feel like rocketing off the bed every time he touched it.

Back on track, he let his warm, wet tongue continue to dance over your clit in soothing, slow motions and slid one finger inside you- massaging your aching flesh until he added a second. You clenched around him in warning, but he took it slow, frequently meeting your eyes to measure your reactions. With a particularly nice stroke, you settled a hand into Kylo’s hair, stroking in time with his tongue.

It was… unusual. Strange feeling- the painful roughness of your walls and slick skin soothed in part by Kylo’s gentle touches as he urged your body towards pleasure rather than pain. With everything so wet and oversensitive it was overpowering the level of minute detail you could feel- how he crooked his fingers in such a way to press against hidden nerves; how he would drag his tongue just so it would pull on the hood of your clit- how you could feel the slightly bumpy texture of his tongue in excruciating detail. 

And, for as oversensitive as you were, it didn’t take long at all until Kylo’s continuous pace caused your thighs to clench around his neck and your walls flutter around his diligent fingers. Even through the blur of orgasmic bliss, you noted that the stiff pain in your abdomen had been alleviated- replaced by a rhythmic, pleasurable flexing of internal muscles in the wake of climax. 

But the Knight wasn’t done with you. A bloodstained hand grasped at your side, pulling you up to sit- adjusting your postures so that he was sitting and then- to kneel over Kylo’s lap. The thick head of his erection jutted proudly between your stomachs, a fat drop of precum beaded at the tip. In the dim lighting of the room you could see the massive smear of red that covered his face from cheeks to chin- the tip of his nose was especially red- and where it had slid down to his throat in some places. You knew what he was going to do, and welcomed it.

The kiss was, well, _wetter_ than usual- smearing all over your face in turn and thick with the flavor of blood, heavy on your tongues. You swiped your tongue across his mouth, picking up blood and sucking at his lips. Only Kylo, you thought, could have made you eager to taste your own blood. 

He lifted your hips and guided you to ease down on his cock- the stretch still a little too sharp to be entirely pleasant, so you moved slow- happy to tangle your hands in his hair and savor his lips and take your time working your way onto his length. When you finally took him to the root- stars he was deep in you like this-- Kylo let out such a soft sigh you almost missed it, his emotional response emitting soft waves of pleasurable contentment.

You sought out his lips again and began to rock your hips. It was better, like this, that you were on top- Kylo’s typical style of starting hard and fast would’ve been a painful loss- instead, you took your time with deliberate strokes upward, tilting your hips as you rose and carefully dropping your weight.

Kylo’s hands gripped the backs of your thighs, helping support you as you rode him, not trying to adjust your pace- only there to help. You pulled away from his lips long enough to meet his eyes- glazed over and half-lidded from lust. You kept one hand anchored to Kylo’s shoulders as leverage, but the other settled onto his arm- feeling the thick muscles move in time with your hips.

On a whim you looked down, dropping your head to Kylo’s shoulder, visually tracing over the various white lines of scars and- fucking stars. The sight between your bodies was transfixing- magical. Captivating. Any skin on either of your bodies that was remotely near your hips was stained with blood- even the once black curly hairs on the Knight’s pelvis had a new reddish gleam to them. You raised up and- _fuck_ \- dropped yourself again, watching the physical reality that corresponded to the sensations. _Watching_ his cock disappear inside you brought a new level of eroticism- you groaned, resorting now to open mouthed pants to breathe at all. 

You focused on the specific details you could make out with your over sensitive cunt; the way the ridge of his head felt dragging against the sweetspot on your front wall- how when you rested all your weight on him you could grind your clit so easily into that thick patch of hair. How even his breath was starting to come in staccato beats, interspersed with little noises of appreciation that fell from his red kiss-swollen lips. 

Your thighs burned, but you felt so close to the edge you couldn’t bear to stop. Kylo caught your lips again, pushing you to lean a little away from him- your bodies curving- the hand that had been on his arm falling behind you to support this new position. You felt it then- like this his cock rubbed just a little more sweetly, just a little more insistently against the place that made your see stars and his thumb rubbed gently around your clit- pushing you over that edge as once more physical bliss flooded your system. Your core shook and clenched violently, unsure whether to arch or curl in- the arm that had supported your weight wobbling like gelatin but thankfully not giving out.

Kylo had taken over movement you began to spasm, you realized, as he lifted your weight through your hips as though you weighed nothing at all- still trying to be gentle and keep the pace you had set. A hard jab of a thrust and a half-choked moan, followed by the warm wetness of his cum filling you up were all it took before your arm _did_ give out and you half-flopped back on the sheets, your hips raised over Kylo’s lap- still joined for the moment- as you could feel his dick begin to soften.

You each fought to catch your breath, pink-faced and very, very dirty. There was blood _everywhere_ , it’d transferred all over your bodies- large, obvious smears on groin and face gave way to lesser smudges on arms and sides- you could feel a drying handprint on the side of your jaw. Kylo hummed in contentment, eyes half closed as he leaned over you and laid a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. He buried his face into your neck so you felt his voice more than heard it; “Seems we both need showers now.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

 

 

Outside, a small, silver service droid had been called to retrieve and clean laundry. It beeped anxiously as to why the door to _Quarters 03101; Designation: KR_ would not open despite repeated requests to enter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, orgasms really do help with cramps so there's my Life Hack for you.


	17. Ephemeral [Mature][Visions]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have your first Force Vision and suddenly know why Kylo had hidden it from you.
> 
> For the vague traces of plot this smut-a-thon has, here's my #plot chapter. Sorry. Will resume smut shortly. Note: I wrote part of this more than a month ago, so I do apologize if it's not quite up to par.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Contains:** Canon-typical violence (in a vision), character death (in a vision).

The room was peaceful. Cool and dark and quiet except for the relaxing, familiar humming of the sublight engines and the soft, cyclical breathing of the man next to you. A deep sleep tonight, it seemed. No fitful, fearful dreams that drive him to accidently kick you or wrap the sheets around himself as he tossed and turned. In theory, it was a good night to sleep. No stressful events from the day to concern yourself with, just the subtle movement of his chest and his hand on your side. Just a warm body whose arm was resting peacefully over your hip- even in his sleep he held onto you, like you’d slip away from him while he couldn’t see you. All in all it was blessedly relaxed and serene. 

And yet, there you were. Awake.

The new implant itched under your skin, but you fought the urge to scratch it. A stray piece of hair was brushing against your ear, but you did not adjust it. Your mind kept replaying the day’s events, boring and uneventful, nothing even remotely serious had occurred. You just couldn’t make your head shut down for the night. It usually wasn’t this difficult... 

Beside you, Kylo snuffled against his pillow. You sighed and looked to him then. Face-down on the pillow, his dark hair obscuring most of his features. His head just barely turned so as not to suffocate- his breath coming in even passes between his lips. Sometimes there would be the softest noise approaching a snore, but like in consciousness he was remarkably quiet when he slept like this.

You took a moment to appreciate his form, covered to the waist in sheets- the vague outlines of his legs sprawled underneath. His arm, so relaxingly placed on your body, cut a nice, bright line through the darkness of the sheets, the sturdy lines of his arm connecting your bodies. You reached over and very delicately tucked some of his hair behind his ear- revealing his face to you.

For all the time you spent with him, it was hard to recognize him when he slept. So often was he controlled by such invasively strong emotions- nearly drowning him in raw power- it was hard to make the association the sleeping form beside you. While the mask hid his reactions from most people, you could feel the slightest shifts in his mood and thought. Despite the usual roughness and intensity of his waking emotions, presently only gentle waves of unconscious comfort slid off him. So deeply asleep was he that he wasn’t even keeping the gate closed between your connection as he tried to do since the Not-Vision that was Definitely Not Bothering Him had occurred.

He still hadn’t told you what it was. 

To be fair, you didn’t even know if it was about you. It probably wasn’t. You didn’t even know for sure if it was even a Force Vision at all. 

If it was it probably just dealt with various official First Order business. These days he spent more time dealing with his Knights’ business than personal _or_ professional time with you outside of the night cycle. Your training had slowed considerably though you diligently continued the exercises he’d shown you. Simple stuff. Moving objects, extended meditation, skimming people’s thoughts. You hadn’t quite mastered the last one yet- with anyone except Kylo your target seemed to develop a headache pretty soon after. You assumed this was because he allowed himself to be open with you, or perhaps because you’d accessed his mind so much that it came easily without discomfort.

But without guidance you didn’t make a whole lot of progress. Kylo had been increasingly busy with all his other duties to the First Order and with the Knights-- they were closing in on the map to Skywalker, or at least, that’s what you’d heard. Not to mention the impending completion of Starkiller- once that was completed no one would dare stand against the Order. The ship was quietly buzzing with morbid excitement. This war would finally be won with a weapon of such power and your--

Your mind was wandering again. You glanced to the wall module, sighing and rubbing your eyes. Sleep! You needed sleep, you could let think about Starkiller and everything else _tomorrow_. But how to get to sleep?

Perhaps meditation? You could meditate and focus yourself on relaxing, on releasing all these little pent-up thoughts from the day. Sweep the cobweb of thoughts out of your mind so you could finally get a little peace in the night cycle. That sounded like a very, very nice idea.

You adjusted your posture and your pillows, careful not to disturb the hand on your waist. You left your arms to your side, hands palm-up, open and accepting to the universe. You breathed in deeply through your nose, held it, and exhaled through the mouth- willing your various anxieties and thoughts and concerns to be carried out with your breath. You focused on the physical sensation of breathing, how your chest expanded and deflated in time.

Your body already felt lighter, eased from some unseen stress. Inhale, fresh and new and quiet. Exhale, letting your body relax, find a basis for stability. Inhale. Exhale. Rhythmic. Quiet. Relaxing. Inhale. Exhale. Serene. You slipped into unconsciousness.

 

 

 _The smell of thick smoke,_ choking your lungs and burning your eyes. A battle, people yelling. Fire was raging in the town, inhuman white creatures collecting everyone- Kylo’s command shuttle, large and black and impressive, landing--

 

 

 _The chill of snow, biting past the heat of the village_. A ginger, younger than you can recall ever seeing him, pointing to a datapad then out into the white terrain, only slightly obscured by the massive deciduous trees. His nose and ears were pink from the temperature and you could read his lips, but heard no voice, “build it here.”

 

 

 _Three floors below you, two aft, an officer’s lounge began to fill after a shift at this very moment._ Phasma’s helmet is off, reading a report on her data pad- still working despite the relaxed atmosphere. Her hair is still kept regulation straight, not a single blonde line out of place. Her eyes flick up as a group of officers laugh at some unheard joke. She sips a glass of wine.

 

 

 _The water trickles into your boot._ That’s quite annoying. The rest of the stream was content to flow on past your feet except for the few splashes that landed in your boots, soaking through your socks. Why were you here? You wanted to sit up, look around, but you couldn’t. Why couldn’t you? A rock is poking into your back.

The sky is very blue, all around you are tall, fat-leafed trees. Vibrantly green, the thick trunks covered in equally green furry-looking moss. It was nice here, you decided. Pleasant. Quiet. Peaceful. Lively, literally, covered in life. Nothing at all like the life of your home planet, so far away.

The sound of blaster fire in the distance, so far away. Were you in a battle? Had you been shot? Had you.. hit your head..? You lay on the bank of a stream- just lay there. Your body felt heavy, so heavy! So tired- hard to keep your eyes open.You let them close, just a quick nap. No, no, no! You couldn’t nap in a battle, you needed to get up and move- get back to the ship, get away from the fight, get away from him--

You opened your eyes again. He on the other side of the stream, in all his armor and glory and his lightsaber- so savage and crackling and buzzing loudly. You want to smile, want to be so happy and relieved that he’s come to save you from your wet socks and how dirty your uniform simply must be from lying on the ground. It’ll be so much more comforting to sleep in your bed rather than on the ground.

But you don’t feel that. You feel hot tears sliding over your cheeks and the _fearhatredregretrageguilt_ and just the smallest whisper of _love_ \- you think it’s him, passing off all these emotions but it hits you--- they’re exclusively _yours._ No. You reach for him and his emotional response is blank; there’s- there’s _nothing_ there. It’s not a shield, not a barrier that’s keeping you out. He’s just _empty_ , he’s barely there at all. Is he there? Are his robes and armor just air underneath their dark cloth?

You blink and he’s standing over you- thick, dark boots (caked with mud, splashed with something red) on either side of your hips. The pose should bring shame or annoying for losing a sparring match, or perhaps arousal in another context. But there’s only fear. Only the hot sting of tears in your eyes and how your mouth is moving, pleading and begging with words that aren’t yours. You can feel every muscle in your body burning, fighting so hard to get up and _run_ , to fight and bite and kick - _why?_ \- he was going to _hurt_ you, but why? He would never-- You needed to run, run so far but you just _can’t move._

You blink again and he drops his weight, falling to practically sit on you- knocking the air from your chest as you stare up into his eyes- so dark and hollow, nobody at home upstairs at all, and glistening like he’s about to cry as well. His eyes were so expressive, what's happened to him? You realize his mask is gone- so is his lightsaber. He’s not how you remember him- how he is? He’s older now, looks so tired of life and living. A scar bisects his face, so out of place from your memories. That’s not right. He didn’t have that. You want to touch it.

He’s speaking, but the words aren’t right- they aren’t directed at you. He’s talking himself into something. It’s the voice he uses when he asks for guidance. That dark voice, so lost and aching. “I need to do this. I have to.” 

His hands find your throat, the first trickle of emotion slipping off him- _pain_. And the floodgates have opened- pain and despair and _RAGE_ pouring out of him in an infinite waterfall, a bottomless spring of emotion drowning you under the weight of his hatred. Those hollow eyes are now brimming with unfulfilled wrath, sightless with bloodlust. His Force signature expands, blankets the area in a heavy mist that’s so, so dark it’s nearly black, the lightless empty void of space and- you can’t _breath_ in it, it’s so thick and dense and-- his hands circle your neck and _squeeze_ \-- 

He’s screaming, pale skin flushing in anger- but you can’t hear him, only the blood fighting to slip past his fingers and the continuous, quiet babbling of the creek and really that rock in you back is hurting and--- and finally you move. Your hands find his wrists, grasping and yanking but unable to overpower him and this is all so, so _wrong_. He is crying now-- sobbing above you even as his fingers tighten and something _shatters_ in your throat. Tears are falling on your face, mingling with your own.His lips are moving rhythmically, the same syllables over and over, and he’s begging, pleading for you to forgive him.

 

 

 

You can’t breathe. But you can move. Your fists fly to your face, gasping, kicking, punching, and screaming at the air- every instinct you had before now coming alive all at once. You push whatever had constricted your breathing off your face, arm swinging wildly outwards to catch him in the jaw (you hit something not his jaw, but from the noise you call it a small victory) and roll, tactically, to the side-- you had to run, you had to _get away_ \---

You fall off the bed- your skull bouncing off the nightstand with a disgusting _crack_ as you wrested yourself further into the tangle of sheets- the majority of the bedding sliding off with your body. The pillow that had been suffocating you had been flung across the room, flopping sadly against the door with the manual lock. The world spun- a pillow? your sheets? Your ears still ringing from the impact with the nightstand, but above you a dark mess shot up- and, oh stars his voice-- “ _LIGHTS!_ ” go. you had to go right now.

You scrambled away, limbs flailing wildly to push some distance between you. He was upon you in a second, looming like a bird of prey and you covered your face with your arms- striking blindly and cursing unintelligible things in a hundred different languages that he could never understand. Between swings of your limbs you saw him- a brief flash of that pale face and all you could see was that rage-filled horror that had choked you- the waves of rage that had poured off him that day so many weeks ago when he’d done exactly that. He’d already done it to you before, he’d do it again. You needed to leave.

One of his hands caught your wrist, not even a tight grip, just trying to prevent you from injuring yourself or him, but in terror you _wailed_ , shoving weakly at his body and pressing yourself up against the wall, curling into yourself, becoming as small as you could. His hand released your wrist, and he backed off. Just two steps away, stumbling. He dropped onto the floor, level with you. You pulled the freed limb back to your body and sobbed, cradling the joint in the opposite hand.

You knew it had been a vision. No dream could ever have been like that. But you were out of the vision, you were in the real world. The standard First Order carpet was stiff and prickly under your feet and thighs, the lightly textured wall rubbing imprints onto your side. And Kylo wasn’t trying to- or succeeding in- killing you. Not yet. You were in the present.

Rage and frustration fell off Kylo’s emotional response- not nearly as strong but just as identifiable as in the vision- and you whimpered, ducking your head to your knees. He wanted so badly to comfort you, to be able to hold you in his arms- he was nearly blindly projecting the thoughts for how easily they were passing into your mind- but those were the same hands that were going to, or perhaps already had, killed you. This, this is what he hadn’t wanted you to see. You wish you hadn’t.

Neither of you moved for a while, at least until your residual sniffles died down. You couldn’t bring yourself to look to his face, but you stole the occasional glances in his general area. He was slumped against the end of the bed, his head dropped down and his hands buried in his hair- fingers tight and pulling at the roots. You couldn’t see his face through the ebony curtain of his hair.

He was still your Kylo, you tried to tell yourself. He didn’t look empty. He was still projecting little half-thoughts of self-hatred and frustration, anger at the universe at large, but at least quietly and vaguely enough to not cause distress. He had always been an bottomless well of emotion, but the torrent of rage that had threatened to drown you was not present here, only bitter despair. He was still your Kylo.

“Why,” Your voice came out too soft, only a broken whisper. You stopped and tried again, aware that Kylo would’ve heard you anyway. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

The muscle in his jaw clenched, but other than that he didn’t move. He spoke quietly, stiffly- far from the screams he’d let loose in the vision. A minor comfort. “It’s not a vision.” He turned a little, to peer at you from under his hair. You didn’t return his gaze, turning to stare intently at your own toes. “I won’t let it be.” 

His hands dropped then, pleading eyes met your own for only a moment before you had to look away, shuffle closer to the wall. The despair filtered through his voice unchecked, whispering your name in a horrible mix of apology and reverence. “You’re... I would _never_ hurt you. You’re too… _important_ to me.”

You stared at your own hands, wanting to make some scathing remark about how obviously that wasn’t true. Obviously there was something more important, something that made him feel he needed to kill you. You shuddered- his voice had been so cold. Lost and hopeless like how he sounded now- but. He wasn’t broken, not yet. The Knight you’d seen in the future was beyond repair, just a tool at his master’s disposal.

Again silence took the room aside from the occasional sniffle. Your hands were shaking.

“Would you… lie down again? I won’t touch you.” _if you even want to be in the same room as me,_ He paused, then continued more as a command. “Please.” Even now making your lips turn up a bit for how unusual it was to be _asking_ something of someone else. Someone well below his rank, technically. So much more a statement than a pleading. 

You sat there a moment longer, but he had already begun to relax minutely. Something unsaid had passed between the two of you-- that you would eventually find your legs to stand and return to the bed. You got up by leaning on the wall, never turning you back to the Knight still on the floor. He watched you move, but did not look to your eyes. 

Stiffly, you sat upright on the edge of the bed, but you were running low on energy- your adrenaline high was already beginning to fade. You couldn’t hold on like that. So you scooched to the center of the bed and resumed the position you were in before. Head tucked against your knees, arms wrapped around your body. Small. Hidden.

A shuffling of fabric near you told you Kylo had moved closer, near the edge of the bed, but far enough away as to not frighten you. He was treating you like a spooked animal. Well. You kind of were, weren’t you? You were the deer and he was the hunter, poised to shoot. He hadn’t even had the decency to tell you what he’d seen. At this you began to sob anew, words falling from your mouth in a horrible flood- just as uncontrolled as your vision’s version of Kylo’s rage had been. 

Between outright sobs and sniffles you managed to voice a flurry of thoughts.“You’re like some, some-- _fuck_ ,” You sniffed hard, “You’re this big, big fire. Just this massive tower of- of flames, and you can destroy without a second thought, using anything that comes at you as fuel to burn hotter and longer and it’s so absolutely _fucking_ horrifying. You’re this firestorm ripping through the brushlands, tearing down old growth to make room for something new and I’m just, I’m like this little moth. This insignificant little _thing_ that happens to exist in the same _universe_ as you. And you’re so, so bright I can’t help but-- I don’t know. But I, I _know_ , I can _feel_ how, how hot you burn. This raw energy and power and destruction coming off you, and I can see what you do to everything, everyone around you. I know exactly who and what you are, I’m not under some illusion. And I should run so far, by the Force I should just run and never, ever look back. But- fuck, even NOW I can’t stop wanting you, trying to just, just touch those flames of yours. But what happens when I do, Kylo? What happens then?” 

That sounded so stupid but, fuck if you couldn’t think of any more logical way to explain this mess of your emotions. 

You probably made a pretty horrible sight, falling apart in your lover’s bed while he stared at you with this blank look that could just barely be mistaken as pity. His emotional response was barely above blankness- the tiniest shimmers of heartache echoing into your mind. You laid your head upon your knees and closed your eyes, letting the occasional sniff or sob shake your shoulders until you quieted again. 

There was another shuffling of fabric and the bed dipped beside you. You hoped Kylo would simply ignore this outburst- pretend you didn’t feel like you were a shattered piece of porcelain held together by nothing more than his good intentions when he was the same person holding the hammer. Perhaps you could go back to sleep, let him snuggle up against you- all warm and insistent and twitchy with dreams- _hold me?_ \-- pretend this had never happened. It was nothing but a dream. A creation of your subconscious and nothing more. 

Instead, a warm hand lifted, paused- hanging in the air for a long moment before settled on your back. You tensed under it, but as he began to rub soothing circles into the small of your back, you willed yourself to relax. This was your Kylo. Warm and rough and unsure how to care about anyone. And then, his arm curled around your side- so slow and delicate- and finally he maneuvered you and himself enough so he was fully situated behind you. His long limbs wrapping easily around your body with how small you’d made yourself in this posture. His warm chest covering your back like a blanket; his cheek rested against your head. 

For the person that was trying to destroy you, you felt oddly safe like this, caged by his powerful body. Your sword and shield.

“I think you’re wrong.” The absurdity of the phrase made you scoff. He ignored this in favor of continuing to speak, low and steady next to your ear. “I’m not a flame and you’re not a moth.” 

“I didn’t mean it literally,” Your voice barely a whisper- scratchy from your emotional outburst.

He nuzzled against your head before speaking again. You closed your eyes and focused on the warmth of his body, the gentle movements of his chest. How safe you felt. “You’re… you’re so much stronger than a moth. You’re not an innocent bystander to my… destruction. You’re. An anchor. And a mountain. And the shore line. No matter what storm I may bring you, you’re… you’re strong. You can endure.”

He pressed a kiss against your shoulder. His voice dropping to something bordering on dangerous. “I will not be your end. I won’t allow it.” 

You weren’t sure if you believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I stated, smut will resume for at LEAST the next *planned* 8 chapters, including both the Hux, Phasma, and then Hux and Phasma at the same time chapters. And two requests I've received (srsly pls feel free 2 request).
> 
> I'm going to say it now: both chapters with Hux in a sexual situation will have alternate versions with Trans!Hux because I love Trans!Hux too much. They will, however, be **alternates** so either can be read as Fic-canon per your belief on what's in Hux's pants.
> 
> Follow [ my Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/) to hear me talking to myself about Star Wars and how everyone in space is Super Mega Queer™


	18. Distraction [Explicit][Sex Toys!]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your training resumes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from 30 Days of NSFW challenge:  
> "Sex Toys"
> 
>  **Contains** : Kylo breaks shit while you need a break. More Force training. The rampant abuse of Order resources. A very special bullet vibrator. Fingering, cunnilingus, face-fucking, deepthroating.

Even with the impending threat of death with Kylo’s hands around your throat, life continued on. Strained and unsure, marching to a beat you couldn’t quite catch up to. Days oddly stuck with the boring to-do list of a translator, nothing to do with the strange powers in your mind. Your night cycle routine would alternate between seeking out Kylo’s warmth, ensuring he was still there and holding on tight- daring the universe to try and take him from you---- and cringing away- the slightest brush of skin making your heart go cold at the memory of the vision, that you were within arm’s reach, that at any moment he could lock those fingers around your windpipe.

The few waking touches you spared one another were childishly chaste, just reassurances that the other was, in fact, still present. That they still cared, even though you could each catch each other’s emotions as clear as day. The lingering frustration of uncertainty was slowly being compounded by the new lack of sexual release and you’d heard that consoles and technicians alike were again feeling Kylo’s wrath. In some ways you were a little guilty about that, that you had been Kylo’s stress release (and he yours) and now the crew and ship were having to fend for themselves once more. 

In all honesty, neither of you had much clue as to how to handle this. Well, obviously your lover had fallen back into his previous habits, but that wasn’t really _handling_ the situation. You had only become involved together because of his original vision, of you as a bloodstained power couple, but now that seemed to be an impossible feat. That _it_ had only been a dream, and not just one possibility of an infinite future.

The only remotely good thing about the whole ordeal was Kylo’s mind was once again open to you, no longer shrouded behind his shields. There wasn’t anything to hide any more. Even so, he was as distant in the Force as he was in person. You reached out to him occasionally, just to see how he was feeling. But you didn’t linger and neither did he. One dream and it was as though you were strangers again.

But. Life continued on. You each threw yourself into your meager work, as though avoiding each other during the day could avoid _that_ day in particular. Stress was heavy on your shoulders, aching as you sat in your station’s chair. A series of messages in Baa’ri had been intercepted and deemed vaguely important- but they were long. Commlink terms of service long, and boring too. Thus far it seemed to be a copy of an old government’s constitution. And yet, it was a safer task to handle than considering your future- if you even still had one.

You began to next passage, blindly considering your options while your hands worked automatically. Getting away from Kylo Ren would be, of course, the best possible choice. But there wasn’t much chance of that- you were a member of the First Order. At best you could be transferred to another ship or base, but the distinct feeling that Kylo would never willingly let you go shot a hole in that idea. If you ran, you’d have to go where he couldn’t follow. The Republic? You shuddered. You’d be a turncoat. Your father had worked for the Empire and you’d joined the Order willingly- you weren’t a very good candidate for asylum.

Even worse, you _would_ be Kylo’s enemy if you did that. For the moment there was no reason for Kylo to harm you. But should you defect, you’d be a traitor- a symbol to be erased from the Order’s growing legacy. Would you even be able to do it? If given the chance, could you give up everything you’ve known? 

No, you decided. Whatever the future held for you, you’d face it with the First Order’s insignia on your breast.

 

 

You took your lunch in your office, eating simple bites of a tasteless casserole. At least in the simplicity of your workspace, of your original posting on the Finalizer, there was a protocol to everything. Messages were intercepted by Transmissions, if they were deemed of any use at all they were passed up the chain of command. If they weren’t in Basic they were handed off to some translator (ie, you) before continuing their journey. Rarely if the Order had taken a prisoner that did not speak Basic you sat in on the interview and aided communication. 

You’d only had to do that once, and it was on the previous Star Destroyer you’d been station at. A Quarren woman who had been visiting a Republic outpost during a First Order strike. She had resilient, blue eyes and spoke with a thick Mon Calan accent. Despite the fact your superiors had decided she wasn’t involved in the Resistance’s movement, you didn’t think what had happened to her after you left the room. You rather hoped you never had to have that duty on this ship. 

You continued to work. The next time you checked the chronometer another few nondescript hours had passed. There was always something to be done, you figured. You rolled your shoulders and leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes until phosphenes danced before you.

You felt him then- the lingering presence at the back of your mind. Like a little lifeline connected through a dimension the physical walls of the _Finalizer_ could never touch. But he was cold. Worn and stiff and small, even in his own mind. In alarm you reached back for him- pressing for more information as to what was going on to cause him to feel like this now. He was thinking of you, speaking of you. A cold voice you didn’t recognize filtered through his ears. He shooed you away from his mind, a half-hearted attempt at placation of _not now._

Your brow dipped, the beginnings of a headache pricking at your temples. He was busy, probably in the middle of something important. Nothing to worry about. Probably. Fuck. You groaned and dropped your head to your desk. At the very least you could comfort yourself with the knowledge that you couldn’t do anything about his predicament at the moment and at least he seemed to want, or rather need, to be there. He’d tell you if it was important. He _had_ to.

You opened up the document again and began typing once more, replaying a portion of the vid trying to correctly capture the incredible lack of emotion displayed in the voice of the speaker. You only got another few sentences written before your spectre was back on your shoulder.

He was still stiff, a touch of subservience still clinging to his thoughts. Hesitant, even. _I sought counsel from the Supreme Leader._ He said in lieu of greeting. Your stomach dropped, unsure of what to make of that comment exactly. _It’s time we resumed your training._

You didn’t need him to clarify that he meant _now_. You saved your work and signed off, heading to your customary training room. At this point it was more or less understood to be reserved for your exclusive use, which at least avoided awkward scheduling conflicts with persons did not wish to train in the same room as the Master of the Knights of Ren (that is to say: everyone). 

Though your training didn’t really seem to be the issue that made your stomach flop. You’d trained with Kylo before- well, before the complications of your budding relationship. It was a routine you could fall into easily once more- your office-bound work and the training afterwards that left your mind and body too exhausted to complain. But now that had a new pressure:

You had been brought to- you shivered- the Supreme Leader’s attention. No longer were you just an anomaly on the Order’s pristine record, you actually held some… what? importance? value? You couldn’t help but worry how your significance to Snoke would affect the visions of your future. If you failed under his supervision… You shook the thought from your mind and entered the training room.

Kylo’s mask was already off, resting on a low table opposite the door, but there was no trace of the Knight himself.You looked around, casting your mind instinctively, unsure if this was part of his lesson. He wasn’t hiding- his signature was just around the corner, seeming to be gathering some item he needed.

You approached the table. Beside the mask lay an old sword, thick and flat-bladed. Chipped and dented from use along the edges. Unpolished durasteel, by the looks of it. Not particularly long, shorter than Kylo’s saber but definitely heavier. 

 

You took the moment to shed the outer layers of your Order uniform. No doubt that before you left the room you’d be sweating or bleeding and the stiffly laundered synthcloth would only impede you. You dropped your belt and jacket on the table beside Kylo’s mask, leaving your boots toe to the wall, socks tucked just inside. After a pause you pulled off your shirt as well, leaving you only in a white, regulation undershirt and your slacks.

Moving back to the center of the room you began to stretch, working tired muscles after spending most of the day in your chair. Touching your toes and feeling your spine realign, leaning to one side, then the other. Simple movements to get back into the rhythm of these meetings. You had one arm folded across your chest- opening up your shoulder- when the door slid open. 

You weren’t really sure what you had expected Kylo to be retrieving but you hadn’t quite expected _this_. In one hand was a plain pitcher, capped by two stacked glass cups and filled with water. And in the other was a small, pink, round object. You flushed immediately. He was considering it when he met your eyes, a touch of indecision sliding off his emotional response, coming to a decision at your reaction. He slid the vibrator into his pocket.

It was going to be one of _those_ lessons.

“We’re going to work on your concentration.” He stated instead, moving past you to the table and the flat-bladed sword. He placed the pitcher and cups down and picked up the unpolished sword, holding it sideways with both hands. “Levitate this.” 

You nodded quickly and held out your hands, mirroring his. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, focusing on the current of energy around you. You’d done this particular exercise before, the simple lifting and holding of objects. It was pleasantly familiar, even after such a long break.

In your mind’s eye you could still see the sword, cradled next to Kylo’s immense signature. You reached for it, with your mind and with your hands. Felt the flow of power extend from your fingertips to wrap around the tip of the blade and the hilt, lifting the metal from your Master’s hands. You moved the sword towards you, to hover between your bodies- you hands pulling close to your body, channeling the motion through yourself. 

Even with your hands to guide your mental powers you could feel the blade wobbling midair. You took another deep breath, feeling the relaxing of your muscles, focusing your mind and thinking only of the balance of the blade, your fingers twitching in time with your adjustments. 

You knew from Kylo’s lectures and the edging touch of calmness about you that you were drawing on the Light side. You’d once questioned him about if it was _alright_ to use the Light, after all, the Empire was headed by Sith. He’d given an uneven gesture and responded that since the Knights were neither Sith or Jedi, there was not a necessity to follow one path or the other. So long as your power- no matter the side you drew from- was capable of success and did not betray the Knights’ or the Order’s causes, what did it matter?

You opened your eyes. It was hard to explain how it looked, for you knew that physically your eyes would only see the blade floating midair, but you knew you could also see the shimmering pale gray of your power cupping each end of the sword. Perhaps it was just your mind’s way of processing this additional, external information into something visual. 

This is the fastest it had become stable in your grasp, but you can’t tell if he’s impressed at your improvements or if he’s even noticed. He moves on with the lesson, “Don’t let it move.” 

You nod, knowing the drill for this exercise. You take another deep breath, strengthening your hold on your inner peace. With one finger he pushes up on the hilt to lift it, the sword beginning to tilt in the air-- your grasp encircled the hilt, just to the side of Kylo’s finger, and you think of it being anchored in place. As though it were stapled to the very air itself. The sword stops tilting, and begins to press back against Kylo’s hand until it is parallel to the floor once more.

Your Master changes hands, now pressing down on the flat of the blade. Again you focus on pressing against the force Kylo exerts, on balancing it out so the sword stays afloat. 

He goes through this routine several times, changing where he presses on the blade- sometimes in other axes, pushing sideways on the pommel once to throw you off. Each time it takes a little less time for the sword to regain its balance and become secured in the air, until finally it doesn’t move at all at Kylo’s prodding. 

“Turn. Ninety degrees vertical.” Your wrists spin, halfway without your knowledge, to facilitate the movement. The sword turns, standing blade-up in the air. 

You make the mistake of looking past the blade- only a thin, silver line in the air as the wide side is held in line with your bodies. The side view of the blade bisects Kylo’s face from this angle, and for a moment you are reminded of your dream- of Kylo’s scarred, raging face-. The Light pulls away from you-

The blade wobbles with your shaking exhale, but does not fall. You forcefully remove the image from your mind and close your eyes once more to steady it, a little embarrassed at the slip-up. In half a breath your hold in the sword regains strength.

“Spin.” Your fingers curve, starting the rotation as you would for a top. You apply the pressure along the entire side, willing the entire object to move.The shimmery glow of your power swirls around the metal like a whirlpool, the continuous motion keeping the blade spinning uniformly.

“Stop. Lower your hands.” 

This was the tricky part for you. Again, you closed your eyes and focused on the power of the Force flowing through you. You knew you _could_ control it without your hands, but it was still difficult and foreign. A new skill you had yet to learn completely. With effort your hands descended, shaking, sometimes shifting and lifting a little to adjust the sword’s position. Even by your sides, your hands were tense- not quite fulfilling his requirements, you knew. You had to entirely let go.

Another deep breathe, sending the new air to the tips of your fingers and- releasing. Your hands hung limply while the sword floated before you. 

“Hold.” You gave a barely noticeable nod, keeping your eyes trained on the silver blade. This was a simple endurance test, something to stretch the muscle for whatever he had planned. You kept your eyes open, unfocused on anything in particular. 

Across from you Kylo hadn’t moved. Usually he’d inspect your form, make adjustments to your posture so you were well grounded. But he simply stared at you. You wished to tap at his emotional response, but doing so would cause the sword to waver, you were sure. Fatigue was setting in fast, faster than you had anticipated. Whatever equivalent to a muscle you used to exert this power was quickly becoming overworked at the continuous use after weeks without purposeful training. But your Master gave no sign of signalling for you to stop so you grit your teeth and continued, feeling the beginnings of a headache begin to prick at your temples. 

And as the gradual pain built up behind your eyes, your grasp on peace and serenity faded, the sword wobbling. “Release.”

The sword clattered to the ground, you nearly doubled over in relief- one hand pressing to your forehead to alleviate the growing ache.

“Sit, relax.” You sunk down with no further prompting, easing the pressure in your head. At least your body wasn’t aching too, having both portions of your existence be in pain at once were the result of the particularly bad days-- those ones before he choked you out--- you nipped that thought at the bud and watched Kylo sit opposite you, the sword laying lifeless on the floor between you.

“The Supreme Leader... believes the vision is the result of your lack of proper position in the Order and by your lack of training in the Force.” His emotional response was remarkably neutral, pensive as he considered what Snoke had said. 

You cocked your head, “I do have a position, though. I’m still a translator, aren’t I?”

“No.” You startled, not having predicted this development. “Your presence and your apprenticeship will be announced to the Knights. Your foremost duty in the First Order is now exclusively under me.” He paused, looking to the sword. “However, you may be asked to oversee the translations section when I am unavailable.”

He met your eyes once more and you stared at him, unsure what to say. This… this actually didn’t particularly change much, you figured. Your training resumed and you would spend less time sorting through verbs and participle clauses. He’d already told you that you would be joining the Knights eventually. You were officially a Knight-in-training though... “So I’m like… a Page of Ren?” 

One dark eyebrow lifted in amusement, though a smile didn’t quite touch his lips. He was still _Lord Ren_ , not Kylo, for the moment. “Your position doesn’t have a title.”

“I don’t know I kind of like _Page of Ren_ ; it sounds like an old book.” The corners of his mouth turned up at that. You continued, a touch more seriously. “So, I’m not a part of the, um. _military_ of the Order anymore, right? Like how you don’t _officially_ hold a rank?” 

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Hmm,” Well, on the plus side you wouldn’t have to wear your stiff Order uniform all the time- you could definitely get away with wearing dark robes now. And, technically speaking, you were no longer under Hux’s command, were you? Now that was a weird idea. You doubted you could shake the habit of yielding before him, though. 

The conversation hit a comfortable lull, both of you content to allow the other their thoughts. Your mind relaxed further, undoing the stress it had just been put under. That was only the warm-up, you knew, so you had to be ready for whatever he tasked you with next. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, slipping into a light meditation- clearing your mind of all thoughts except the feel and pull of the Force around you. A current in the very matter that made the universe, slipping through the physical walls this plane and your body were constrained to. Just as expansive and malleable as your mind could make it, the Force surrounded you, ebbed and flowed around you in time with your breathing.

A shifting of cloth told you Ren had stood up- his signature moving a few feet away, back to the table where his helmet and the pitcher of water sat. The sound of liquid pouring made you open your eyes. As expected, Kylo was filling one glass half full of water. The other sat empty. He took the half-full glass with him as he returned, giving you a single nod.

You climbed back to your feet as Kylo retrieved the sword. You saw his own energy lift the blade, holding it sideways, blade parallel to the ground, just as you had. “Levitate.” Your mind- and hands- reached out to the blade, supporting it in the same places you had before. Kylo’s power left the blade completely under your control for a moment and- he placed the cup of water on top, in the center.

“Hold.” Well, this was simple enough. Keep the water from spilling. So long as you didn’t shake the blade too viciously the liquid would stay in the cup no problem. Again, it was a test of endurance. You loosened your mental grip on the blade- still supporting it, but not expending so much energy at once. With the Force, weight was not an issue- just one factor to be accounted for in your approach. Kylo nodded at the change, moving off to the side. Circling, inspecting your form. This was what you were more used to.

From behind you, he nudged at the inside of your foot with his, widening your stance. “Keep yourself grounded.” You did not acknowledge verbally, but reminded yourself of this in the future. You continued to hold the sword with him behind you, time becoming a foreign concept when all your world had shrunk to balancing a durasteel blade and a cup of water.

When the liquid began to angle slightly- the left end of the sword dipping a little lower than the right- Kylo put a gloved hand on your shoulder and the other on the small of your back, aligning your spine from the slight slouch you’d gained. You took the moment to reinforce your grip on the left side, bringing the sword back into balance. Kylo didn’t move away. 

The hand on your shoulder slid down, both landing on your hips. He stepped closer, his chest pressed to your back, body heat sliding through thick robes. Oh. Right. One of those lessons. You waited patiently for him to move again, but he remained still. Without even intending to, your breath began to cycle with his, the shifting of his chest against your back subtly influencing when you took your next breath. When you breathed in unison he allowed one hand to slide up your side. The sword did not shake. Both hands then moved idly up and down, touching only hips, ribs, and the side of your breasts.

You grew used to the continuous movement, predicting his pattern.He ducked and pressed a kiss behind your ear. You gasped softly and the sword wavered, but resettled. You could feel his smirk against your skin. Peace and calm, you reminded yourself. One gloved hand moved inwards, sliding over your breast, brushing over your nipple. Though his touch was deceptively light it still send shivers down your spine. 

He gives your nipple a rough tug and to your astonishment you manage to jerk in his grasp, but the water only swirls in the cup- not spilling. A touch of pride passed over his mental response, pleased that you’re so focused. Both hands cupped your breasts now, flicking over your nipples, massaging your flesh through the material of your undershirt. You moaned low in your throat, leaning back against his chest. Your arms were beginning to hurt from holding them in midair, but you’d do anything to keep the water in that cup so long as Kylo kept touching you like this. 

Kylo’s mouth dropped to your shoulder, kissing and licking the skin he found there. A growl echoed from his throat and he rutted against your backside, his erection warm and firm through his robes and you ground back against him. Your combined movement made the blade wobbled and he stopped. He apparently didn’t _want_ to, as his hips continued to rub minutely against you, even as he fought to control his own movements. Him moving you to disrupt your concentration wasn’t part of the lesson plan, it seemed. He was only here to _distract_.

His right hand trailed down your front, circling pleasantly above the hem of your pants. Your hips wanted to buck up, entice his hand a little lower, but doing so would shake your mental power. So you waited, let him trail one finger oh so delicately over your pants, directly over your aching slit. Let him palm at the insides of your thighs, teasing the crease between thigh and abdomen. Only when you were so wet you felt you would stain through your pants did he begin to rub at you directly, two fingers rhythmically, up and down. Not high enough to catch your clit, but enough to fan the flames burning in your belly. Enough for you to rock against his hand, the blade beginning to sway in time with your hips. The water stayed in the cup.

Kylo withdrew his hand, and you whined. You pushed your butt up against him, teasing him in turn. The blade wobbled, and you gasped, attention returning immediately to the task at hand. If you didn’t get this under control you’d never last. The black-robed armed returned to wrap around your hips, hands nestled between your thighs and pressing- what? -- _Bzz_ \-- “Fuck!” The sword and glass dropped immediately, the cup shattering, and your hands grasping at his wrist- unsure if you wanted him to press it harder against you or pull it away.

His hand slipped from your gasp-- the buzzing gone quiet again. You were panting and flushed, your hands falling to your knees and Kylo moved away from you. You cursed again, more at yourself and the residual tingling between your legs. In your keeping the sword afloat you’d forgotten about that damn vibrator. Where did he even _get_ it. 

Your Master dispassionately collected the remains of the cup- you noted, smugly, that despite his aloof personage there was still a notable tent to his pants. Even better were the soft waves of arousal drifting off his mind. He gathered the shards with the Force and set them in a net pile on the floor, out of the way. He returned to the table and filled the other glass. You groaned. There were only two cups. When- _if_ you broke this one, the lesson would be over, you suspected. Would he let you cum if you failed? 

You ran your hands through your hair, shocked to find a layer of sweat clinging to your scalp. How long had you been at this now? 

Kylo returned, again picking up the sword and placing the glass atop it. “Use the Dark this time. Use your emotions.” 

_Use the fact you want him to fuck you into the floor to keep a sword in the air._ Perfect. Totally reasonable. Your arms shook slightly as you raised them again, this time not bothering to center yourself- the ache you felt was your power source now. The dark tangle of your own lust holding the blade up as, once more, Kylo’s power retreated and circled around to resume his position behind you.

He wasted no time, urging your legs apart and unbuttoning your pants- slipping his hand inside. He bypassed your clit entirely to circle and prod at your entrance. You gasped aloud at how wet you were, how even his gloved fingers had no trouble at all sliding over your slick skin. You redirected this desire into your hold on the sword, already wavering slightly. He sunk one, then two fingers in- you hummed happily at the texture of the leather and the rough seams. The angle didn’t allow for much thrusting, but he easily curled his fingers and rubbed insistently against the sweet spot on your front wall.

Your legs shook, knees wanting to draw together- to lock his wrist in place until he made you cum. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t even tell if he was using the Force to hold your legs open or if your determination to not screw this up kept your heels planted on the floor. Either way, you were stuck standing there-- taking whatever he chose to give you. 

His left hand slipped off your body, and returned with the pink vibrator. You couldn’t help but moan, the sword jostling in the air, from just the sight of it. You wrapped a tendril of power around the cup, holding it firmly to the sword’s blade. If that was against the rules, Kylo didn’t seem to care or notice. 

Instead of shocking you with it, he held it to your thigh and turned it on- your hips jerked but you would _not_ drop that cup. A sick determination gripped you- the Darkness, you knew- you _would_ succeed. Another subtle shift of pride came off him, happy to know you’d already found your resolve. The vibrator shifted closer, sliding over your labia, never directly touching your clit. It was so _good_ , the vibrations sinking into your body while Kylo’s fingers continued to massage you from the inside.

Your lust found the sword and cup, gripping them like a vice- no longer just around the hilt and tip and base of the cup, your power encircled their entirety, anchoring them in mid air and _daring_ them to move without your will to do so. You closed your eyes and could see it- could see your own power so saturated behind your eyelids. Your head fell back against Kylo’s chest and you _moaned_ , urging him forward. He pressed the vibrator to your clit, finally, and you ground your hips down onto his hands, his fingers never stilling as the stimulation began to pull you towards orgasm. 

Higher and higher, the heat of your body grew- little tremors and the growing frequency of your noises giving away how close you were. The sword dipped for only a moment and your hands clenched into vicious fists, gritting your teeth, lips pulled almost into a snarl. You would _not_ be outdone by a fucking cup of _water._ You were above this, you were strong. You were going to fuck Kylo’s brains out for this little stunt. You would _endure_ and nothing in the world would be able to stop your unsatisfied rage if he left you wanting and-- _crnk!_

You felt his whole body jerk up to look, fingers stilling for a moment, but you didn’t bother opening your eyes. You’d felt it shatter under your mental grasp, the shards compressed into a ball of water and glass, still floating over the sword. You gasped out, desperately, “I didn’t drop it!”

Amusement overtook his emotional response (echoed by a soft touch of pride), the soft shake of laughter in his chest. His fingers resumed their work, fast and hard. He dropped his mouth to your shoulder again, littering the skin there with red bite marks only to lave over them with his tongue. He was whispering something in your ear- low and melodic and filthy, but your mind was too overworked between using the Force and the sensory input he was so readily supplying- you couldn’t make any sense of it. 

His mouth found your earlobe, sucking it between his lips and oh- _fuck_ \- you were gone. Your whole body shook against him, writhing in his grasp as your hands dropped the dig your fingernails into his wrists- the objects held only by pure willpower. He fingered you through it, pulling out your orgasm to its fullest extent- having the foresight to switch off the vibrator before your clit began to ache. Only when your thighs stop shaking did his fingers finally still and the ball of glass shards and water finally drop to the floor. 

Your weight was nearly entirely supported by Kylo, boneless in his arms. You wanted to make some quip about breaking the glass, but your mind was too fried to make any cohesive phrase. Kylo’s arms circled your waist- lifting and hauling you to the table. You don’t know which of you knocked the pitcher off and your clothes off, but they flew across the room and landed among the remains of the cups and the sword. Still lightheaded from your orgasm, Kylo maneuvered you how he wanted-- leaving little room to guess what he was after. 

Your head hung off the table, facing Kylo. Upside down you watched him unclip his belt and shove his robes and armor aside to retrieve his cock- flushed red and nearly dripping precum. You happily licked your lips, opening your jaw as he slid into your mouth, praising your eagerness. He groaned- your hands found his hips, gripping the dark cloth as his cock began to prod at your throat, setting an even, measured pace. From this angle it would be easier to deepthroat him, less damage to your throat if he got too rough. 

If him face-fucking you after that mess of a _lesson_ wasn’t enough, he leaned over you, leather-covered fingers slipping back inside your sensitive cunt- moving in time with his thrusts. You moaned around his cock, your hips lifting to encourage him, making it a little easier for him to reach. And encourage him it did- his fingers slid out, replaced with the vibrator- though small, he pressed it in- and pushed his fingers in behind it, fucking you with fingers and vibrator alike. You wanted to squirm and cry out for the odd sensations reaching so deep inside you. His other hand came to press just under your jaw, feeling your throat work around his length with every movement, only having to press a little to feel your pulse fluttering through his gloves.

He leaned forward more, burying his cock in your throat, choking you with it as you swallowed compulsively around the head and-- his lips sucked on your clit, flicking it with his tongue. You moaned, bucking up against him as his hips began to thrust, a little awkwardly from the angle- just barely pulling out enough for you to pull in air in ragged gasps. He leaned away, kissing and licking around your pubic bone, nipping at the skin of your thighs.

A mix of saliva and precum was beginning to drip from your mouth, little tendrils connecting your face and Kylo’s cock every time he pulled away. A trail was beginning to drip down your cheek, but for the magic he was making between your legs and the near-continuous groaning in his chest you couldn’t care less. His rhythm stuttered, thighs working harder to fuck your throat. Your head was half empty from the choking, a light buzzing in your mind. His lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking hard and continuous, lips working around it, fingers moving roughly, uncoordinated. You couldn’t take any more- falling apart for the second time around his fingers while you moaned around his cock.

His mouth and hands left your clit, withdrawing to stand over you again, both hands holding onto the sides of your face as he fucked you, eagerly chasing his own end- bruising the back of your throat until finally, finally, he buries his cock in your mouth, deep as he can go. In the center of the room, the pitcher shatters. His cock twitches on your tongue, spilling his cum down your throat- quite a load considering it had been days since you last fucked. You suckle every drop from him, until he began to soften. 

He pulled himself away, still panting. Upside down, you noted vaguely how red his face is. You managed to sit up, despite the pain in your neck and throat- you rub at your aching jaw. Your face is covered with various bodily fluids and you grimace, knowing you were an absolute mess and you’d have to clean your face on _something_ before you could leave. You settled on your undershirt, wiping the saliva and maker knows what else onto the fabric. You could pull your uniform’s shirt and jacket on over it, hide it until you could strip in your quarters. 

In the middle of the room sat the remnants of your training exercise- shards of glass, an old sword, and a puddle of water. You huffed a laugh and turned to him as he tucked himself away, adjusting his belt and robes. His face still burning red. “Is every training session going to be like this?”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “If you’re good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably going to write a one-shot that I rambled about on [ my Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/) next, but the next _chapter_ I write will likely be Kylo/Reader/Hux. ;)


	19. Punishment [Explicit][Cropping][With Hux]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Kylo have a plan for how to lure Hux into your bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Also, WOW?? 400 kudos, 100 subscriptions??? Thank you all so much!!!!
> 
>  **Contains** : D/s overtones with Sub!Kylo and Dom!Hux, cropping, spanking, improvised spreader bar, improvised cockring, bondage, hair pulling, orgasm denial, begging, inappropriate use of the Force, light aftercare, mentions of cum eating, mentions of face slapping.

There wasn’t much of a plan involved, not really. Mostly it started with the gentle, hidden probing of his mind, gathering little whispers of information to see if he was interested at all, if he’d even entertain the possibility. Which, as it turned out, was harder than it seemed. 

Despite the fact that your new official position- that is to say, following Kylo around for most of the day- you had little direct contact with the General. You had pointed out that it would be a little odd if you lingered around Hux when you were not needed, and it would be best to skim his mind from afar. When you did see him, however, he looked at you with a new expression, new series of thoughts- he was no longer your superior, he’d lost an asset he’d wanted for his ship, and more importantly, you represented a failure of his government’s system. And yet, you were a curiosity to him. Not that he let that subconscious flit of emotion pass by unchecked. 

During his shifts he was impeccably, frustratingly professional; regulating his thoughts to only about the Order in the most mundane way. Even in his off-duty hours he kept a close eye on his thoughts, never letting them drift too far out of the realm of respectability. In two days time, there was only two trains of thought- both quickly derailed- that brought about any proof of what you were looking for.

It was with this in mind that you had set the scene. A quick message to Hux’s datapad with the request that he visit after his shift was all it took. For all intents and purposes you no longer worked under him, but it was hard to not think of him as your boss. Which just made this entire scenario that much harder to work with. It only took a little preparation to slip into Hux’s quarters and retrieve the riding crop that was an official- if outdated- part of his uniform.

You waited for him in the sitting room- the entire plan was dependent on your ability to convince Hux to agree. You weren’t real sure you could. Even with Kylo’s mind sitting on your shoulder- giving you little ripples of confidence and guidance, little notes on how Hux would probably react- it was still dependent on you. _Use your anxiety, allow it to guide you._

You felt him at the door before he knocked, but waited for his knuckles to rap on the metal anyway. Didn’t want to appear overeager to draw him inside, you supposed. With the Force you unlocked and opened the door- and waited for him to enter. He held his hands behind his back as he appeared before you, glancing around the room, taking note of Kylo’s quarters. From his emotional response he was irritated for being called with no particular topic in mind, but between his professionalism and growing curiosity about your exact status and skills, he could not dare say no. 

You had settled on the far side of the little couch, dressed down to a black undersuit. You motioned him over and reminded yourself, settling your nerves: you answer only to Kylo (and the Supreme Leader). Hux is no longer your superior officer. You were no longer in the same chain of command. You worked _with_ him, not under him. You were in control.

Hux retained his stiff posture, hands still folded behind him, face annoyingly well-guarded as he approached the couch, still standing. “Yes?”

You motioned again towards the far side of the couch, “Sit, General. There’s something we should discuss.”

He eyed you warily, trying to judge your intent. It was odd, you realized, that he couldn’t simply tell you were being sincere. Then again, he couldn’t read your emotional response as you could his. You clarified, “It concerns Kylo Ren. And your coat.”

Hux’s face soured, but you felt it: the well-suppressed tendril of desire sliding through him. He knew exactly what you had done to his greatcoat (and hat, and desk). His office was thick with the musk of sex for a week, never mind that he had to have his uniform laundered twice before he could bare to wear it. “What _about_ my coat? Plan on soiling it with Ren again, or something more insidious?” 

Here we go. You school your expression as best you could into something half-sheepish. “Actually I wanted to apologize.” Technically speaking it was true; you’d orchestrated this little scene with Hux in mind.

One red eyebrow arched up. He didn’t quite believe you. “Kylo does too, but you know how he is. We wanted to, um, you know, extend the olive branch. It wouldn’t do well to make an enemy of your co-commander, right?” Still unimpressed you shrugged, doing your best to believe that you were _nonchalant_ about this mess. “So, we decided to do something for you. If you’re interested.”

“Don’t bother. Stay away from my office and it will be sufficient recompense.” 

He began to turn away- quick! Save it! You stood- squared your shoulders. “We saw something.” He paused. His emotional response was growing increasingly irritated, eager to get away from your deceptive presence. “In your mind. Something you didn’t want us to see.” 

Terror, chilled and distant laced through his response- thinking too loudly _what did they see what did i show_. And yet, you had to respect him. His only physical display was the slight widening of his pupils (a purely instinctive response) and the tightening around the corners of his mouth. 

Kylo reached out to you from the other room: _Good, now show him._

And you did. You raised a hand to him- let yourself slip comfortably into his mind. Meaningless background noise of his thoughts flittered by. It didn’t take long to retrace the one train you’d been looking for- the single moment where you knew how to get his attention. 

“ _He’s like a child, needs discipline_.” His own firm voice in his mind. You pulled the associated memory- his own at the Academy.

Hux sitting at his desk, you standing beside him. A boy called to the front of the room, too many disrespectful remarks on this day. The teacher- a faceless man, lost to the tides of times, bent the boy over the desk and spanked him, right there, in front of the class.

You felt Kylo slip in beside you- he was better at this part anyway. You could see how he was doing it, but Hux wouldn’t know the difference. The memory altered- the boy bent over the desk growing older, posture changing to allow for his long legs. Well kept, uniform hair darkening and extending several inches. Indignant, intense eyes glaring from under his long hair. From across the room he met Hux’s gaze, daring him to action.

You pushed the second train of thought you’d uncovered to him, the same one that was passing by him now: that disgusting tendril of arousal that shot down his spine- of seeing Ren so degraded, vulnerable. Subservient. 

(A flit of annoyance passed over Kylo’s mind, directed towards Hux-- _next time we’ll have him begging for my cock._ \-- you didn’t remark on Kylo’s own arousal at his current situation. For as much as he enjoyed holding the power, there was something about this that was obviously doing something for him considering he’d been varying degrees of hard since you left him in the other room). 

The real world slammed back, Hux taking a step away- his emotional response scrambling to sort through your meaning. The implication of using corporal punishment on, by far, the most powerful man on the ship. Of holding that power for just a moment. Here it was, the power play:

Your hand shifted away from Hux’s face, behind you- towards the bedroom door. You drew the crop out, slowly. A show, your gaze never leaving Hux’s as the crop levitated across the room. You caught it, pretended to examine it. 

It was, you had to admit, very well-kept. A genuine- not the standard synthetic- leather hoop at the end of a long handle, the result being a more powerful swat. As far as you could tell Hux had never actually used it- the crop being reduced to a prop at award pinnings and stirring speeches, left clipped to his belt or hung properly in his closet. You held it out to him. 

His eyes slid from the crop to your face. You struggled not to grin. His mind was already made up, you could feel it. It was only ever a matter of if he could bring himself to do it. Ren was dangerous, but there was something Hux had always been magnetized to-- they were so perfect opposites; the fire and the ice, the fighter and the thinker. And here he had the opportunity to act, to bring to light a fantasy he’d never been able to voice. Ever the one for appearance, Hux straightened his back, held his chin high. He took the crop with one hand.

You let him enter the bedroom first, just so you could savor his shock. And he was, of course, shocked. 

Through his eyes you could see Kylo exactly as you’d left him: Hux had known Ren to be quite _pretty_ under that ridiculous mask, but like this- naked, flushed, on his knees-- held wide apart by a retractable training staff, bent at the hip so his chest could rest on the bed, hands and ankles tied with the military-grade and damn near unbreakable rope used for climbing. Just like in the vision, Kylo met the General’s gaze and did not flinch, even as exposed as he was. He took a step further into the room and he saw it: Kylo’s red, needy cock hanging heavy and dripping between his legs- tied tightly around the base with the rope. 

Like this Hux thought Ren was beautiful. 

You and Kylo had no exact plan for how this would play out. You had, of course, mentioned that the most obvious answer was that they both fuck you. Despite this meeting being Kylo’s own idea, a wave of discontent jealousy passed over him at the idea that anyone else would dare to touch you in that manner. But now, all at once you no longer had to worry on whether or not you’d inadvertently cause a fight over who gets to stick what where with Hux’s unintentionally loud thinking of: _I’ll whip his ass red and ride him until he begs._

That certainly simplified the situation. You could see it then, with only the lightest bit of prying, of how Hux would _prefer_ this encounter to go. And after a moment to check with Kylo, neither of you had any complaints about that.

Hux’s eyes slid to you as you entered the room behind him. He was considering if he could get away with pointing out that you had been just as guilty in the mess made of his greatcoat. You probably wouldn’t say no to if he wanted to use that crop on you as well, but honestly this little encounter wasn’t really about his coat. It was the culmination of all the anger Ren had incited in him. Hux made up his mind.

He laid the crop across Kylo’s back, as though he were a table- _worthless_ , letting the Knight shudder. Hux undressed purposely. He drew the greatcoat off his shoulders, folding it and laying it on the edge of the bed just to Kylo’s left. He began to unclip the cuffs to his shirt.

He nodded towards you, “Undress, lie on the bed.” Completely unnecessary, really. You could see what he wanted, but considering the little thrill of being in control that slid up his spine, you let him have his fun. It was a rare opportunity that he could control two (per his own description) formidable Force-users. 

You stripped off the black undersuit, but before you settled where Hux wanted you- you grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand and placed it on Kylo’s shoulder. Hux eyed you warily for moving without instruction, but a twinge of pragmatic approval off his emotional response was all the acceptance you needed.

You slid onto the bed, just how Hux had imagined, centered in front of Kylo, legs stretched out on either side of him, calves hanging off the edge. The apex of your thighs just in front of his mouth. You moved forward, collecting Kylo’s hair in one hand, first to pull it away from his face- to see how gorgeous he looked like this- then to tug gently until he would meet your eyes. 

At least like this there was a pretty obvious failsafe. Two thirds of the people in the room would read the others’ emotions. If anything became too much the other would catch it, slow or stop the action accordingly. And with Kylo as the receiver it would be rather obvious should he need to stop- “unbreakable” rope or not, he could easily free himself at any point.

You thought towards Kylo: _I could get used to this._ You palmed his pink, flushed cheek, thumb tracing over his cheekbone. _You’re quite pretty tied up._

 _Really? I’m sure you would prefer to be in my position. Naked and at your commanders’ mercy._ He smirked- he knew he was right. But there was no need to let him feel so smug. You yanked on his hair until he groaned, the noise reverberating against your thighs. 

You released your grip and pet through his locks, soothing the ache you had made. _Maybe next time. He’s still mad at you alone for now._

You looked up to Hux then. He’d stripped down to only his slacks; his clothing stacked neatly in a pile atop his greatcoat. He had a slender build, but not gangly like Kylo, marked with delicately kept muscles- remnants of basic training that had been padded by years spent mostly inside Destroyers rather than on the ground. And yet, he held himself high and stiff, the power of his rank and command still easing off him.

Hux met your eyes for a moment- a calculating glance for how to proceed exactly. His gaze fell to the back of Kylo’s head, where your fingers were still tangled in his dark hair. Hux’s scowl deepened. He lifted the riding crop once more, stepped closer to Kylo’s backside, trailing the leather hoop up Kylo’s spine. You watched the crop dancing along his skin, tracing over the faint lines of scars and the subtle curve of muscles until he pressed the end against the back of Kylo’s head- “Figures you would be as useless to not know what to do with a cunt in front of your mouth.” The crop abruptly left Kylo's head, moving up to catch your jaw, lifting your head till you looked once more to Hux’s face. “Why do you even keep him around?”

Hux withdrew the crop, not expecting a response. Irritation and arousal slipped off Kylo’s response- a sharp glare over his shoulder was all he could manage before his finally refocused his attention to you. You could feel he wanted to pin your legs down, spread your knees wide and fingerfuck you, his natural dominance itching to be expressed per usual-- but his hands were tied nicely behind his back, his fingers twitching with the need to grab and squeeze and hold. He still obeyed- flattening his tongue and painting a broad stripe up your slit, kissing and suckling at any skin he could reach. His lips found your clit, massaging the tender nerves there as you gasped-- in a flash of sadism you shifted away from him, just too far for him to comfortably please you, having to stretch and chase your taste.

Dark eyes flicked up to your face- his pink tongue having to poke obscenely from his open mouth to reach your folds now. _You’ll pay for that._

You grinned. _I’m counting on it._

“I suggest you two stop talking.” Instinctive fear of his authoritative tone (of your Ex-boss no less) made your eyes snap up to meet his even as Kylo’s mouth kept working against you.“If you have something to say you can say it aloud. Understood?”

You nodded sharply, habit taking over your voice: “Yes, sir.”

Hux slid the end of the crop over Kylo’s back once more, nearly petting him with the leather. “Then I suppose you’re ready to begin?” Kylo grunted, raising his hips invitingly. 

Hux gave the first swat- a quarter stroke, just enough to garner Kylo’s attention- a sharp note of pain over his emotional response. Kylo stifled a gasp- you could feel his jaw work against the reaction- his hips arching away from Hux and his face right back into your cunt- his lips finding your clit immediately.

“When I ask a question, I expect an answer, Ren.” Hux rubbed the developing mark gently, approval dancing over his face. 

“ _Yes,_ ,” Kylo ground out between blind, needy kisses about your thighs. You realized why Hux wanted you here in part- you could see, not just feel, the aggression fall off Hux- followed by another quarter stroke, on the other cheek. 

“Yes, _what_ , Ren?”

Kylo didn’t even bother to pull away from your body this time, letting his response reverberate through you-“Yes, _General_.”

Hux sighed, resigned and disappointed with this development. He traced the leather over the matching red spots on Kylo’s ass. “That’s the best I’m going to get from you, isn’t it?” Kylo grunted, suckling once more upon your clit while your hands tangled in his hair, guiding him as you wanted. “Worthless.”

Three swats in quick succession- harder, now. Kylo did whine at the third, the noise muffled against your flesh. You felt it more than heard it and had to check if Hux had heard- even if he hadn’t he was quite self-satisfied with the growing red marks. “Rather funny you picked this; you’ve always been a pain in my ass.” 

Kylo snorted- you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, trying to disguise it as a moan. His green eyes pinned you in place and, without looking, laid an identical three swats to the other cheek.

“I had hoped that having a…” His eyed trailed up and down your body, judging you as he patted the end of the crop against Kylo’s skin- tap, tap, tap, _twap_ , a full-length swing. The Knight arched away from the impact, burying himself further into your cunt momentarily, returning to his starting position and desperately schooling his expression into passivity. “An _apprentice_ would control your impulses.”

Impulses. You flushed at the memory- of the bouts of angry, rough sex and the numerous, mottled bruises (some intentional, some not- none regretted) that had resulted from the brushes with Kylo’s temper. He would always be impulsive and violent, you supposed. He’d never hurt you, you recited to yourself. Never.

“Just redirected them, really.” Kylo said into your thigh, nipping purposely to pull you away from your thoughts. His dark eyes were half hidden under his eyelashes from the angle, but he knew what you’d thought of for a moment. Not a very sexy or useful thought. 

On an impulse of your own, you pushed his shoulders up, catching his lips in a kiss- doubtless the angle was doing hell for his neck and back, muscles straining to hold his weight up. He devoured your mouth, much more aggressively than he had done to your sex- but the unmistakable taste of your own arousal on his tongue sent shivers down your spine. You reached out to Hux’s mind, unable to see his body as he lifted the crop once more-

A harsh series of hits to one side, unexpected and numerous and brutal. Only when Kylos fists clenched so tightly that it felt like your nails were biting into your own palms- the sensation picked up too clearly from your connection-- did Hux switch sides, laying the exact number of hits into the other cheek. A swift, unrelenting punishment much like Hux himself. You drew his lower lip into your mouth, sucking fiercely to draw some attention away from the burning of his flesh.

The General paused and watched Kylo’s ass darken, the red starkly visible against the pale, untouched skin of his thighs and back. For the first time that night Hux touched Kylo- rubbing at the scarlet marks with his bare hand, feeling the heated flesh for himself. Kylo hissed into your mouth, struggling to look over his shoulder. You could feel the static when their eyes met and- _smack_ -Kylo’s head dropped to your shoulder, body jerking as Hux’s hand landed two, three more times. 

“You’re such a bloody _child_ , Ren.” Hux sneered, “You have no control at all.” He took two steps away, observing his work as the Knight shivered- sweat beginning to bead over his brow and back. At this angle his abs were working to keep himself up, his weight supported only on his knees and his head on your shoulder. You felt it in him then- that he _liked_ it.

Not just the cropping, which done nothing to flag his erection- but how Hux spoke to him. The degradation and distaste. Part of it was that it was so real coming from Hux; you were, by your own admission, in love with Kylo. It would be hard to find those words in your own voice. What an odd balance, you realized. One person to whip Kylo, to tell him how worthless he is, and one person to stroke his hair, let affection fall freely from your mind into his. 

The crop once more trailed over Kylo’s backside. Against any greater pride, a pleading noise escaped his throat. Hux punished it with an immediate harsh swat of the leather. Hux danced the crop over the other cheek, listening intently for if Kylo allowed another protestation. He didn’t. You stroked his neck rewardingly, laying a kiss to his shoulder.

Hux rewarded this minor improvement in his own way- the leather tip sliding down, off Kylo’s ass to brush over his balls and then almost stroking up and down the underside of Kylo’s cock, flushed and heavy and leaking. Kylo’s hips shifted back, seeking more friction- only to be met with another strike from the crop. “You’ll take what I give you and nothing more.” 

Finally, Hux removed his slacks and underclothes, folding them pristinely with the rest of his belongings- retrieving the jar of lube and slicking up two fingers- reaching behind himself and working himself open quickly, reveling in the slight sting. You could admire the sight; the once pristine General stark naked (and blessedly pale, freckled)- one hand working at his ass, the other still wielding that mean crop, while his dick stood proud, pink, and haloed by dense, red hair. “Roll over.”

With the training rod still holding Kylo’s knees well apart and his hands still tightly bound, he struggled for a moment- but you could feel when he allowed the Force to turn himself over- his head landing on your opposite shoulder, half leaning back on you. Bits of dark hair were stuck to his flushed face, lips red and swollen from his various work between your legs and to your own lips. 

Predicting what was to come, you scooted back and pulled Kylo’s shoulders to bring him with you until he could rest his feet on the end of the bed. Hux thought he looked like an offering, bound and begging. He nodded towards you, reflecting on what he wanted. “Go on.” 

You shifted downwards, letting Kylo hang uselessly over your shoulder- head falling back, long neck left in perfect position for you to kiss and nip at the skin there. One hand curled around his side, keeping him in place while the other slid over his body- down over his stomach until you could trace around the rope tied to the base of his cock. No matter how hard he tried he wouldn't be able to cum until that came off. You wrapped one hand around his cock then- warm and heavy in your hand as a groan reverberated through his chest. His hips lifted up, thrusting weakly into your loose grip- keeping it teasing. 

Kylo’s thought processes had been reduced to the purely physical. The residual sting at his ass, your lips on his neck- your teeth worrying the join of neck and shoulder, the desperate, building need to get that rope off his balls and fuck Hux and _cum_. 

Hux moved onto the bed, straddling Kylo’s hips- his hand, still slick with excess lube replaced yours, stroking harder, faster than you had teased him. Kylo groaned again, back arching into his rough fist- Kylo’s hands were curled tightly again, his mouth working in rough pants. Hux positioned himself and slowly, purposely slid down onto Kylo’s length- Kylo’s mouth hanging open, wordless, eyes screwed shut for finally, finally having that wet heat around his cock. His emotional response was wrought with pleasure, nearly whited out in bliss. Your sex ached with jealousy and the vague shared sensation that filtered by.

Before he could even catch his breath, Hux’s hips rolled down onto Kylo again, making the Knight groan and twitch- his head turning to catch your earlobe in his teeth, scraping and pulling at the tender flesh. “Use my mouth,” he breathed into your ear, an order not a request. An electric shock going straight to your cunt, remembering how nicely his tongue had felt before.

“No,” The tip of Hux’s crop jutted up under Kylo’s chin, forcing his head further back. Hux rolled down again, “Beg for it, they deserve better than your disgusting touch.” 

He looked up at Hux, a crooked grin graced Kylo’s face. “You seem to enjoy it just fine, General.” 

You could feel Hux’s thought without even purposely touching his mind-- if you weren’t in the way he would slap Kylo. He settled for shoving the crop in the hollow under Kylo’s jaw and raking the nails of his left hand down Kylo’s chest- five bright red welts appearing as Kylo gasped- his jaw snapping shut and clenching, resisting the growing urge to give in. His pride held tight- you could feel the struggle in him, not quite willing to give you that power over him. 

The General’s hand moved from Kylo’s chest to behind him- behind his forcibly bent knees and dragged his nails there, biting into the abused flesh of Kylo’s ass. Kylo jerked up, making Hux grunt at the sudden thrust- Kylo’s mouth falling open and a pained noise falling by-- whatever struggle he’d had was overtaken, his mouth working faster than his thoughts. “Please! Let- let me taste you--” Hux’s nails scraped over the same path, Kylo thrusting up into him again, getting the picture and fighting to keep the pace. His mind screaming: _want to feel you, need you so bad, need you on my tongue, want you to cum on my face--_

You moaned and maneuvered yourself into place, Kylo’s dark hair fanning out around his head on the bed- him using the dark strands of Force to pull you faster over his waiting, wet mouth- facing Hux, and-- _oh_ , stars, his lips found your clit, tongue lapping incessantly. You dropped your head and moaned, grinding down onto his face. 

Hux’s hand tangled in your hair, forcing you to look at him. “You came onto this ship to work for _me_ ,” No one should look intimidating while riding a cock- their own pink and leaking onto Kylo’s stomach, but somehow Hux managed to do it. Ginger hair well out of its once perfectly aligned styling, mussed and loose about his temples- green eyes piercing into you, as though he could read your thoughts as easily as Kylo could. “You were supposed to be _mine_.” 

He pulled you forward- his kiss more teeth than tongue, all about laying whatever claim he could against your flesh. It was very different than Kylo’s uncontrolled, savage, emotion-driving kisses- very controlled, every motion having a purpose. Beneath you, Kylo growled against your skin- whispering into your mind how when this was over with he’d fuck your throat raw, erase any trace of Hux in your mouth. You moaned into Hux’s mouth and Kylo’s tongue slipped inside, fucking you in time with Hux, his thick lower lip rubbing over your clit.

 _I’m yours, Kylo. Nothing could change that._ Kylo groaned appreciatively, giving a particularly hard thrust into Hux- the Force pulling you down against his mouth, lips trapping your clit and sucking, flicking it with his tongue until you were shaking, rutting against his chin as your orgasm had you keening. Never once did Hux let go of your hair- only breaking away enough for you to get a single breath of air before reclaiming your lips with harsh bites.

Kylo’s tongue moved away from your clit, tracing around your entrance once more, dipping inside only teasingly. You kept one hand on Kylo’s chest, bracing yourself, while the other shifted to Hux’s body. First thumbing one pink nipple, before trailing down, circling around his long, lean cock. Kylo growled again, the vibrations pleasant against your over sensitive cunt, but his emotional response gave no hint at honest aggression. You stroked his length in time with Kylo’s thrusting, even and measured pulls, twisting below the head, thumbing the slit where precum leaked.

It didn’t take long, Hux’s hips stuttering- a low, gravelly noise finding its way out of Hux’s throat, his cum spilling over your hand in long, hot spurts. You could feel what Hux wanted- wanted to see you lick his seed off your hand, make a show of eating his cum while he ground down through his aftershocks, teasing Kylo with his present inability to finish with that brutal rope in place. It wasn’t a big deal- you could do that easy-

 _Don’t- don’t you dare._ Kylo’s voice whispered cold as ice and fogged with lust in your mind again, reminding you he was just as capable of reading Hux’s thoughts as you were. Kylo’s tongue found your clit again, still sensitive, working you quickly towards another orgasm. 

It didn’t matter anyway, Hux was finally moving off Kylo, revealing his still slick cock, nearly purple with need. You didn’t need Hux’s prompting for it- you wrapped the cum coated hand around Kylo’s cock, stroking quickly and forcefully, fist just a little too tight. The effect was immediate: Kylo was arching and bucking, the Force once more holding you against his face as he tongue ruthlessly fucked you- a foreign, shimmering sensation over your clit as he forced you to cum again. Your hand never stopped- you weren’t entirely sure if that was your own control or if one or both of you had exerted the Force on it. 

Finally, you gasped and pulled away from his questing tongue- focused solely on his needy cock and how every muscle in his body was twitching, aching to be so close to orgasm and being unable to quite reach it. Hux repositioned himself at the foot of the bed, one hand at Kylo’s knees, the other tracing the dreaded rope. “Beg for it.”

Kylo didn’t even try to resist, nearly sobbing: “Please! I- I _need,_ I’m so close! Please let me cum!”

On another day Hux would’ve made him wait longer, but he showed a rare touch of mercy and the rope’s knot was undone, falling away-- two strokes and Kylo screamed, his whole body convulsing- the raw sensation pouring off Kylo’s emotional response so visceral it almost pulled you into another, sympathetic orgasm-- finally pouring himself over your hand, mingling with Hux’s already cooling cum. 

You cooed into his mind, _good boy, just like that_. When his thighs stopped trembling you untied the rope around the training staff, freeing his knees. You rolled off him, intending to untie his wrists as well. He was practically catatonic, mind completely blank as the world resume to exist around him. You rubbed at his chest affectionately, knowing the feeling of an overwhelming delayed orgasm all too well yourself. When his head lolled towards you, mind-numbing pleasure and the touches of the thing he had not spoken aloud whispering into your mind, wordless and comforting.

You echoed them back, trying to judge how he was after his- what you assumed was- first time being on the receiving end of that power, of that control. At least he seemed alright so far, you’d have to assess it later.

Hux was already redressing when you turned to him, sparing the occasional glance towards you and the still mindless lump of Kylo Ren as he rebuttoned his cuffs. You wondered if he’d had other unprofessional trysts with his coworkers. The memories, if there were any, were not at the forefront of Hux’s mind- only that question of if there would be a followup meeting.

You grinned, “I’ll have to talk with him, but I don’t think we’d be opposed.”

Hux scowled, aggressively pulling his greatcoat back on and finger-combing his ginger hair into a somewhat respectable shape. He wanted to make a sharp comment about being in his head, but ultimately strategically held his tongue. Technically there was no regulation he was breaking with this, and he’d already figured out this was the only way he’d be able to fuck you. Getting to whip Kylo Ren was just a bonus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi don't wear a cockring for more than 30 minutes.
> 
> Come tell me to write faster on [ my Tumblr.](http://korpuskat.co.vu/)


	20. [ALT]Punishment[Explicit][Transman!Hux]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Hux is trans, it's canon bitches. Fight me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously this now includes a trans man receiving and enjoying vaginal penetration.
> 
>  **Contains** : D/s overtones with Sub!Kylo and Dom!Hux, cropping, spanking, improvised spreader bar, improvised cockring, bondage, hair pulling, orgasm denial, begging, inappropriate use of the Force, light aftercare, mentions of cum eating, mentions of face slapping.

There wasn’t much of a plan involved, not really. Mostly it started with the gentle, hidden probing of his mind, gathering little whispers of information to see if he was interested at all, if he’d even entertain the possibility. Which, as it turned out, was harder than it seemed. 

Despite the fact that your new official position- that is to say, following Kylo around for most of the day- you had little direct contact with the General. You had pointed out that it would be a little odd if you lingered around Hux when you were not needed, and it would be best to skim his mind from afar. When you did see him, however, he looked at you with a new expression, new series of thoughts- he was no longer your superior, he’d lost an asset he’d wanted for his ship, and more importantly, you represented a failure of his government’s system. And yet, you were a curiosity to him. Not that he let that subconscious flit of emotion pass by unchecked. 

During his shifts he was impeccably, frustratingly professional; regulating his thoughts to only about the Order in the most mundane way. Even in his off-duty hours he kept a close eye on his thoughts, never letting them drift too far out of the realm of respectability. In two days time, there was only two trains of thought- both quickly derailed- that brought about any proof of what you were looking for.

It was with this in mind that you had set the scene. A quick message to Hux’s datapad with the request that he visit after his shift was all it took. For all intents and purposes you no longer worked under him, but it was hard to not think of him as your boss. Which just made this entire scenario that much harder to work with. It only took a little preparation to slip into Hux’s quarters and retrieve the riding crop that was an official- if outdated- part of his uniform.

You waited for him in the sitting room- the entire plan was dependent on your ability to convince Hux to agree. You weren’t real sure you could. Even with Kylo’s mind sitting on your shoulder- giving you little ripples of confidence and guidance, little notes on how Hux would probably react- it was still dependent on you. _Use your anxiety, allow it to guide you._

You felt him at the door before he knocked, but waited for his knuckles to rap on the metal anyway. Didn’t want to appear overeager to draw him inside, you supposed. With the Force you unlocked and opened the door- and waited for him to enter. He held his hands behind his back as he appeared before you, glancing around the room, taking note of Kylo’s quarters. From his emotional response he was irritated for being called with no particular topic in mind, but between his professionalism and growing curiosity about your exact status and skills, he could not dare say no. 

You had settled on the far side of the little couch, dressed down to a black undersuit. You motioned him over and reminded yourself, settling your nerves: you answer only to Kylo (and the Supreme Leader). Hux is no longer your superior officer. You were no longer in the same chain of command. You worked _with_ him, not under him. You were in control.

Hux retained his stiff posture, hands still folded behind him, face annoyingly well-guarded as he approached the couch, still standing. “Yes?”

You motioned again towards the far side of the couch, “Sit, General. There’s something we should discuss.”

He eyed you warily, trying to judge your intent. It was odd, you realized, that he couldn’t simply tell you were being sincere. Then again, he couldn’t read your emotional response as you could his. You clarified, “It concerns Kylo Ren. And your coat.”

Hux’s face soured, but you felt it: the well-suppressed tendril of desire sliding through him. He knew exactly what you had done to his greatcoat (and hat, and desk). His office was thick with the musk of sex for a week, never mind that he had to have his uniform laundered twice before he could bare to wear it. “What _about_ my coat? Plan on soiling it with Ren again, or something more insidious?” 

Here we go. You school your expression as best you could into something half-sheepish. “Actually I wanted to apologize.” Technically speaking it was true; you’d orchestrated this little scene with Hux in mind.

One red eyebrow arched up. He didn’t quite believe you. “Kylo does too, but you know how he is. We wanted to, um, you know, extend the olive branch. It wouldn’t do well to make an enemy of your co-commander, right?” Still unimpressed you shrugged, doing your best to believe that you were _nonchalant_ about this mess. “So, we decided to do something for you. If you’re interested.”

“Don’t bother. Stay away from my office and it will be sufficient recompense.” 

He began to turn away- quick! Save it! You stood- squared your shoulders. “We saw something.” He paused. His emotional response was growing increasingly irritated, eager to get away from your deceptive presence. “In your mind. Something you didn’t want us to see.” 

Terror, chilled and distant laced through his response- thinking too loudly _what did they see what did i show_. And yet, you had to respect him. His only physical display was the slight widening of his pupils (a purely instinctive response) and the tightening around the corners of his mouth. 

Kylo reached out to you from the other room: _Good, now show him._

And you did. You raised a hand to him- let yourself slip comfortably into his mind. Meaningless background noise of his thoughts flittered by. It didn’t take long to retrace the one train you’d been looking for- the single moment where you knew how to get his attention. 

“ _He’s like a child, needs discipline_.” His own firm voice in his mind. You pulled the associated memory- his own at the Academy.

Hux sitting at his desk, you standing beside him. A boy called to the front of the room, too many disrespectful remarks on this day. The teacher- a faceless man, lost to the tides of times, bent the boy over the desk and spanked him, right there, in front of the class.

You felt Kylo slip in beside you- he was better at this part anyway. You could see how he was doing it, but Hux wouldn’t know the difference. The memory altered- the boy bent over the desk growing older, posture changing to allow for his long legs. Well kept, uniform hair darkening and extending several inches. Indignant, intense eyes glaring from under his long hair. From across the room he met Hux’s gaze, daring him to action.

You pushed the second train of thought you’d uncovered to him, the same one that was passing by him now: that disgusting tendril of arousal that shot down his spine- of seeing Ren so degraded, vulnerable. Subservient. 

(A flit of annoyance passed over Kylo’s mind, directed towards Hux-- _next time we’ll have him begging for my cock._ \-- you didn’t remark on Kylo’s own arousal at his current situation. For as much as he enjoyed holding the power, there was something about this that was obviously doing something for him considering he’d been varying degrees of hard since you left him in the other room). 

The real world slammed back, Hux taking a step away- his emotional response scrambling to sort through your meaning. The implication of using corporal punishment on, by far, the most powerful man on the ship. Of holding that power for just a moment. Here it was, the power play:

Your hand shifted away from Hux’s face, behind you- towards the bedroom door. You drew the crop out, slowly. A show, your gaze never leaving Hux’s as the crop levitated across the room. You caught it, pretended to examine it. 

It was, you had to admit, very well-kept. A genuine- not the standard synthetic- leather hoop at the end of a long handle, the result being a more powerful swat. As far as you could tell Hux had never actually used it- the crop being reduced to a prop at award pinnings and stirring speeches, left clipped to his belt or hung properly in his closet. You held it out to him. 

His eyes slid from the crop to your face. You struggled not to grin. His mind was already made up, you could feel it. It was only ever a matter of if he could bring himself to do it. Ren was dangerous, but there was something Hux had always been magnetized to-- they were so perfect opposites; the fire and the ice, the fighter and the thinker. And here he had the opportunity to act, to bring to light a fantasy he’d never been able to voice. Ever the one for appearance, Hux straightened his back, held his chin high. He took the crop with one hand.

You let him enter the bedroom first, just so you could savor his shock. And he was, of course, shocked. 

Through his eyes you could see Kylo exactly as you’d left him: Hux had known Ren to be quite _pretty_ under that ridiculous mask, but like this- naked, flushed, on his knees-- held wide apart by a retractable training staff, bent at the hip so his chest could rest on the bed, hands and ankles tied with the military-grade and damn near unbreakable rope used for climbing. Just like in the vision, Kylo met the General’s gaze and did not flinch, even as exposed as he was. He took a step further into the room and he saw it: Kylo’s red, needy cock hanging heavy and dripping between his legs- tied tightly around the base with the rope. 

Like this Hux thought Ren was beautiful. 

You and Kylo had no exact plan for how this would play out. You had, of course, mentioned that the most obvious answer was that they both fuck you. Despite this meeting being Kylo’s own idea, a wave of discontent jealousy passed over him at the idea that anyone else would dare to touch you in that manner. But now, all at once you no longer had to worry on whether or not you’d inadvertently cause a fight over who gets to stick what where with Hux’s unintentionally loud thinking of: _I’ll whip his ass red and ride him until he begs._

That certainly simplified the situation. You could see it then, with only the lightest bit of prying, of how Hux would _prefer_ this encounter to go. And after a moment to check with Kylo, neither of you had any complaints about that.

Hux’s eyes slid to you as you entered the room behind him. He was considering if he could get away with pointing out that you had been just as guilty in the mess made of his greatcoat. You probably wouldn’t say no to if he wanted to use that crop on you as well, but honestly this little encounter wasn’t really about his coat. It was the culmination of all the anger Ren had incited in him. Hux made up his mind.

He laid the crop across Kylo’s back, as though he were a table- _worthless_ , letting the Knight shudder. Hux undressed purposely. He drew the greatcoat off his shoulders, folding it and laying it on the edge of the bed just to Kylo’s left. He began to unclip the cuffs to his shirt.

He nodded towards you, “Undress, lie on the bed.” Completely unnecessary, really. You could see what he wanted, but considering the little thrill of being in control that slid up his spine, you let him have his fun. It was a rare opportunity that he could control two (per his own description) formidable Force-users. 

You stripped off the black undersuit, but before you settled where Hux wanted you- you grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand and placed it on Kylo’s shoulder. Hux eyed you warily for moving without instruction, but a twinge of pragmatic approval off his emotional response was all the acceptance you needed. You had done enough research- and poking around inside Hux's head to know it would be of use.

You slid onto the bed, just how Hux had imagined, centered in front of Kylo, legs stretched out on either side of him, calves hanging off the edge. The apex of your thighs just in front of his mouth. You moved forward, collecting Kylo’s hair in one hand, first to pull it away from his face- to see how gorgeous he looked like this- then to tug gently until he would meet your eyes. 

At least like this there was a pretty obvious failsafe. Two thirds of the people in the room would read the others’ emotions. If anything became too much the other would catch it, slow or stop the action accordingly. And with Kylo as the receiver it would be rather obvious should he need to stop- “unbreakable” rope or not, he could easily free himself at any point.

You thought towards Kylo: _I could get used to this._ You palmed his pink, flushed cheek, thumb tracing over his cheekbone. _You’re quite pretty tied up._

 _Really? I’m sure you would prefer to be in my position. Naked and at your commanders’ mercy._ He smirked- he knew he was right. But there was no need to let him feel so smug. You yanked on his hair until he groaned, the noise reverberating against your thighs. 

You released your grip and pet through his locks, soothing the ache you had made. _Maybe next time. He’s still mad at you alone for now._

You looked up to Hux then. He’d stripped down to only his slacks; his clothing stacked neatly in a pile atop his greatcoat. He had a slender build, but not gangly like Kylo, marked with delicately kept muscles- remnants of basic training that had been padded in equal parts by years spent mostly inside Destroyers rather than on the ground and the seemingly inescapable nature of where his biology wished to place fat pads. And yet, he held himself high and stiff, the power of his rank and command still easing off him. He turned towards you- what you had expected was plainly visible on his chest. Two sets of scars, well-faded and nearly white, hooped around his pecs. 

Hux met your eyes for a moment- a calculating glance for how to proceed exactly. His gaze fell to the back of Kylo’s head, where your fingers were still tangled in his dark hair. Hux’s scowl deepened. He lifted the riding crop once more, stepped closer to Kylo’s backside, trailing the leather hoop up Kylo’s spine. You watched the crop dancing along his skin, tracing over the faint lines of scars and the subtle curve of muscles until he pressed the end against the back of Kylo’s head- “Figures you would be as useless to not know what to do with a cunt in front of your mouth.” The crop abruptly left Kylo's head, moving up to catch your jaw, lifting your head till you looked once more to Hux’s face. “Why do you even keep him around?”

Hux withdrew the crop, not expecting a response. Irritation and arousal slipped off Kylo’s response- a sharp glare over his shoulder was all he could manage before his finally refocused his attention to you. You could feel he wanted to pin your legs down, spread your knees wide and fingerfuck you, his natural dominance itching to be expressed per usual-- but his hands were tied nicely behind his back, his fingers twitching with the need to grab and squeeze and hold. He still obeyed- flattening his tongue and painting a broad stripe up your slit, kissing and suckling at any skin he could reach. His lips found your clit, massaging the tender nerves there as you gasped-- in a flash of sadism you shifted away from him, just too far for him to comfortably please you, having to stretch and chase your taste.

Dark eyes flicked up to your face- his pink tongue having to poke obscenely from his open mouth to reach your folds now. _You’ll pay for that._

You grinned. _I’m counting on it._

“I suggest you two stop talking.” Instinctive fear of his authoritative tone (of your Ex-boss no less) made your eyes snap up to meet his even as Kylo’s mouth kept working against you.“If you have something to say you can say it aloud. Understood?”

You nodded sharply, habit taking over your voice: “Yes, sir.”

Hux slid the end of the crop over Kylo’s back once more, nearly petting him with the leather. “Then I suppose you’re ready to begin?” Kylo grunted, raising his hips invitingly. 

Hux gave the first swat- a quarter stroke, just enough to garner Kylo’s attention- a sharp note of pain over his emotional response. Kylo stifled a gasp- you could feel his jaw work against the reaction- his hips arching away from Hux and his face right back into your cunt- his lips finding your clit immediately.

“When I ask a question, I expect an answer, Ren.” Hux rubbed the developing mark gently, approval dancing over his face. 

“ _Yes,_ ,” Kylo ground out between blind, needy kisses about your thighs. You realized why Hux wanted you here in part- you could see, not just feel, the aggression fall off Hux- followed by another quarter stroke, on the other cheek. 

“Yes, _what_ , Ren?”

Kylo didn’t even bother to pull away from your body this time, letting his response reverberate through you-“Yes, _General_.”

Hux sighed, resigned and disappointed with this development. He traced the leather over the matching red spots on Kylo’s ass. “That’s the best I’m going to get from you, isn’t it?” Kylo grunted, suckling once more upon your clit while your hands tangled in his hair, guiding him as you wanted. “Worthless.”

Three swats in quick succession- harder, now. Kylo did whine at the third, the noise muffled against your flesh. You felt it more than heard it and had to check if Hux had heard- even if he hadn’t he was quite self-satisfied with the growing red marks. “Rather funny you picked this; you’ve always been a pain in my ass.” 

Kylo snorted- you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, trying to disguise it as a moan. His green eyes pinned you in place and, without looking, laid an identical three swats to the other cheek.

“I had hoped that having a…” His eyed trailed up and down your body, judging you as he patted the end of the crop against Kylo’s skin- tap, tap, tap, _twap_ , a full-length swing. The Knight arched away from the impact, burying himself further into your cunt momentarily, returning to his starting position and desperately schooling his expression into passivity. “An _apprentice_ would control your impulses.”

Impulses. You flushed at the memory- of the bouts of angry, rough sex and the numerous, mottled bruises (some intentional, some not- none regretted) that had resulted from the brushes with Kylo’s temper. He would always be impulsive and violent, you supposed. He’d never hurt you, you recited to yourself. Never.

“Just redirected them, really.” Kylo said into your thigh, nipping purposely to pull you away from your thoughts. His dark eyes were half hidden under his eyelashes from the angle, but he knew what you’d thought of for a moment. Not a very sexy or useful thought. 

On an impulse of your own, you pushed his shoulders up, catching his lips in a kiss- doubtless the angle was doing hell for his neck and back, muscles straining to hold his weight up. He devoured your mouth, much more aggressively than he had done to your sex- but the unmistakable taste of your own arousal on his tongue sent shivers down your spine. You reached out to Hux’s mind, unable to see his body as he lifted the crop once more-

A harsh series of hits to one side, unexpected and numerous and brutal. Only when Kylos fists clenched so tightly that it felt like your nails were biting into your own palms- the sensation picked up too clearly from your connection-- did Hux switch sides, laying the exact number of hits into the other cheek. A swift, unrelenting punishment much like Hux himself. You drew his lower lip into your mouth, sucking fiercely to draw some attention away from the burning of his flesh.

The General paused and watched Kylo’s ass darken, the red starkly visible against the pale, untouched skin of his thighs and back. For the first time that night Hux touched Kylo- rubbing at the scarlet marks with his bare hand, feeling the heated flesh for himself. Kylo hissed into your mouth, struggling to look over his shoulder. You could feel the static when their eyes met and- _smack_ -Kylo’s head dropped to your shoulder, body jerking as Hux’s hand landed two, three more times. 

“You’re such a bloody _child_ , Ren.” Hux sneered, “You have no control at all.” He took two steps away, observing his work as the Knight shivered- sweat beginning to bead over his brow and back. At this angle his abs were working to keep himself up, his weight supported only on his knees and his head on your shoulder. You felt it in him then- that he _liked_ it.

Not just the cropping, which done nothing to flag his erection- but how Hux spoke to him. The degradation and distaste. Part of it was that it was so real coming from Hux; you were, by your own admission, in love with Kylo. It would be hard to find those words in your own voice. What an odd balance, you realized. One person to whip Kylo, to tell him how worthless he is, and one person to stroke his hair, let affection fall freely from your mind into his. 

The crop once more trailed over Kylo’s backside. Against any greater pride, a pleading noise escaped his throat. Hux punished it with an immediate harsh swat of the leather. Hux danced the crop over the other cheek, listening intently for if Kylo allowed another protestation. He didn’t. You stroked his neck rewardingly, laying a kiss to his shoulder.

Hux rewarded this minor improvement in his own way- the leather tip sliding down, off Kylo’s ass to brush over his balls and then almost stroking up and down the underside of Kylo’s cock, flushed and heavy and leaking. Kylo’s hips shifted back, seeking more friction- only to be met with another strike from the crop. “You’ll take what I give you and nothing more.” 

Finally, Hux removed his slacks and underclothes, folding them pristinely with the rest of his belongings- retrieving the jar of lube and slicking up two fingers. He met your eyes defiantly- while you admired the sight; the once pristine General stark naked (and blessedly pale, freckled)- a thick line of well-kept red hair above his cunt, one hand working between his thighs to replace the lubrication he'd lost, the other still wielding that mean crop. “Roll over.”

With the training rod still holding Kylo’s knees well apart and his hands still tightly bound, he struggled for a moment- but you could feel when he allowed the Force to turn himself over- his head landing on your opposite shoulder, half leaning back on you. Bits of dark hair were stuck to his flushed face, lips red and swollen from his various work between your legs and to your own lips. 

Predicting what was to come, you scooted back and pulled Kylo’s shoulders to bring him with you until he could rest his feet on the end of the bed. Hux thought he looked like an offering, bound and begging. He nodded towards you, reflecting on what he wanted. “Go on.” 

You shifted downwards, letting Kylo hang uselessly over your shoulder- head falling back, long neck left in perfect position for you to kiss and nip at the skin there. One hand curled around his side, keeping him in place while the other slid over his body- down over his stomach until you could trace around the rope tied to the base of his cock. No matter how hard he tried he wouldn't be able to cum until that came off. You wrapped one hand around his cock then- warm and heavy in your hand as a groan reverberated through his chest. His hips lifted up, thrusting weakly into your loose grip- keeping it teasing. 

Kylo’s thought processes had been reduced to the purely physical. The residual sting at his ass, your lips on his neck- your teeth worrying the joint of neck and shoulder, the desperate, building need to get that rope off his balls and fuck Hux and _cum_. 

Hux moved onto the bed, straddling Kylo’s hips- his hand, slick with excess lube replaced yours, stroking harder, faster than you had teased him. Kylo groaned again, back arching into his rough fist- Kylo’s hands were curled tightly again, his mouth working in rough pants. Hux positioned himself and slowly, purposely slid down onto Kylo’s length- Kylo’s mouth hanging open, wordless, eyes screwed shut for finally, finally having that wet heat around his cock. His emotional response was wrought with pleasure, nearly whited out in bliss. Your sex ached with jealousy and the vague shared sensation that filtered by.

Before he could even catch his breath, Hux’s hips rolled down onto Kylo again, making the Knight groan and twitch- his head turning to catch your earlobe in his teeth, scraping and pulling at the tender flesh. “Use my mouth,” he breathed into your ear, an order not a request. An electric shock going straight to your cunt, remembering how nicely his tongue had felt before.

“No,” The tip of Hux’s crop jutted up under Kylo’s chin, forcing his head further back. Hux rolled down again, “Beg for it, they deserve better than your disgusting touch.” 

He looked up at Hux, a crooked grin graced Kylo’s face. “You seem to enjoy it just fine, General.” 

You could feel Hux’s thought without even purposely touching his mind-- if you weren’t in the way he would slap Kylo. He settled for shoving the crop in the hollow under Kylo’s jaw and raking the nails of his left hand down Kylo’s chest- five bright red welts appearing as Kylo gasped- his jaw snapping shut and clenching, resisting the growing urge to give in. His pride held tight- you could feel the struggle in him, not quite willing to give you that power over him. 

The General’s hand moved from Kylo’s chest to behind him- behind his forcibly bent knees and dragged his nails there, biting into the abused flesh of Kylo’s ass. Kylo jerked up, making Hux grunt at the sudden thrust- Kylo’s mouth falling open and a pained noise falling by-- whatever struggle he’d had was overtaken, his mouth working faster than his thoughts. “Please! Let- let me taste you--” Hux’s nails scraped over the same path, Kylo thrusting up into him again, getting the picture and fighting to keep the pace. His mind screaming: _want to feel you, need you so bad, need you on my tongue, want you to cum on my face--_

You moaned and maneuvered yourself into place, Kylo’s dark hair fanning out around his head on the bed- him using the dark strands of Force to pull you faster over his waiting, wet mouth- facing Hux, and-- _oh_ , stars, his lips found your clit, tongue lapping incessantly. You dropped your head and moaned, grinding down onto his face. 

Hux’s hand tangled in your hair, forcing you to look at him. “You came onto this ship to work for _me_ ,” No one should look intimidating while riding a cock- but somehow Hux managed to do it. Ginger hair well out of its once perfectly aligned styling, mussed and loose about his temples- green eyes piercing into you, as though he could read your thoughts as easily as Kylo could. “You were supposed to be _mine_.” 

He pulled you forward- his kiss more teeth than tongue, all about laying whatever claim he could against your flesh. It was very different than Kylo’s uncontrolled, savage, emotion-driving kisses- very controlled, every motion having a purpose. Beneath you, Kylo growled against your skin- whispering into your mind how when this was over with he’d fuck your throat raw, erase any trace of Hux in your mouth. You moaned into Hux’s mouth and Kylo’s tongue slipped inside, fucking you in time with Hux, his thick lower lip rubbing over your clit.

 _I’m yours, Kylo. Nothing could change that._ Kylo groaned appreciatively, giving a particularly hard thrust into Hux- the Force pulling you down against his mouth, lips trapping your clit and sucking, flicking it with his tongue until you were shaking, rutting against his chin as your orgasm had you keening. Never once did Hux let go of your hair- only breaking away enough for you to get a single breath of air before reclaiming your lips with harsh bites.

Kylo’s tongue moved away from your clit, tracing around your entrance once more, dipping inside only teasingly. You kept one hand on Kylo’s chest, bracing yourself, while the other shifted to Hux’s body. First thumbing one pink nipple, before trailing down, your hand settling at his waist- thumb sliding inward, circling around his enlarged clit. Kylo growled again, the vibrations pleasant against your over sensitive cunt, but his emotional response gave no hint at honest aggression. You stroked him in time with Kylo’s thrusting, even and measured- up and down, pulling the hood back just to watch Hux shudder.

It didn’t take long, Hux’s hips stuttering- a low, gravelly noise finding its way out of Hux’s throat, his head falling back for a moment as he clenched around Kylo's dick. You could feel what Hux wanted- wanted to see you lick that lubricant- the closest thing to his cum- off your hand, make a show of eating it while he ground down through his aftershocks, teasing Kylo with his present inability to finish with that brutal rope in place. It wasn’t a big deal- you could do that easy-

 _Don’t- don’t you dare._ Kylo’s voice whispered cold as ice and fogged with lust in your mind again, reminding you he was just as capable of reading Hux’s thoughts as you were. Kylo’s tongue found your clit again, still sensitive, working you quickly towards another orgasm. 

It didn’t matter anyway, Hux was finally moving off Kylo, revealing his still slick cock, nearly purple with need. You didn’t need Hux’s prompting for it- you wrapped the cum coated hand around Kylo’s cock, stroking quickly and forcefully, fist just a little too tight. The effect was immediate: Kylo was arching and bucking, the Force once more holding you against his face as he tongue ruthlessly fucked you- a foreign, shimmering sensation over your clit as he forced you to cum again. Your hand never stopped- you weren’t entirely sure if that was your own control or if one or both of you had exerted the Force on it. 

Finally, you gasped and pulled away from his questing tongue- focused solely on his needy cock and how every muscle in his body was twitching, aching to be so close to orgasm and being unable to quite reach it. Hux repositioned himself at the foot of the bed, one hand at Kylo’s knees, the other tracing the dreaded rope. “Beg for it.”

Kylo didn’t even try to resist, nearly sobbing: “Please! I- I _need,_ I’m so close! Please let me cum!”

On another day Hux would’ve made him wait longer, but he showed a rare touch of mercy and the rope’s knot was undone, falling away-- two strokes and Kylo screamed, his whole body convulsing- the raw sensation pouring off Kylo’s emotional response so visceral it almost pulled you into another, sympathetic orgasm-- finally pouring himself over your hand, mingling with Hux’s already cooling cum. 

You cooed into his mind, _good boy, just like that_. When his thighs stopped trembling you untied the rope around the training staff, freeing his knees. You rolled off him, intending to untie his wrists as well. He was practically catatonic, mind completely blank as the world resume to exist around him. You rubbed at his chest affectionately, knowing the feeling of an overwhelming delayed orgasm all too well yourself. When his head lolled towards you, mind-numbing pleasure and the touches of the thing he had not spoken aloud whispering into your mind, wordless and comforting.

You echoed them back, trying to judge how he was after his- what you assumed was- first time being on the receiving end of that power, of that control. At least he seemed alright so far, you’d have to assess it later.

Hux was already redressing when you turned to him, sparing the occasional glance towards you and the still mindless lump of Kylo Ren as he rebuttoned his cuffs. You wondered if he’d had other unprofessional trysts with his coworkers. You supposed not- most people could not read his mind and would have to have a little lecture on what exactly was in the General's pants. The memories of such events, if there were any, were not at the forefront of Hux’s mind- only that question of if there would be a followup meeting.

You grinned, “I’ll have to talk with him, but I don’t think we’d be opposed.”

Hux scowled, aggressively pulling his greatcoat back on and finger-combing his ginger hair into a somewhat respectable shape. He wanted to make a sharp comment about being in his head, but ultimately strategically held his tongue. Technically there was no regulation he was breaking with this, and he’d already figured out this was the only way he’d be able to fuck you. Getting to whip Kylo Ren was just a bonus.


	21. Floral [Explicit][Outdoors]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More training! 
> 
> Prompt from 30 Days of NSFW challenge:  
> "Outdoors, woods, parks, gardens"
> 
>  **Contains** : a lil' fluff, predator/prey aspects, outdoors, technically?? public sex?? but aint nobody around, blowjob, INAPPROPRIATE USE OF THE FORCE KYLO REN GOSH, orgasm _denial_.

He was stroking your hair. You could feel it, the warmth of his fingertips carding over your scalp, pushing hair behind your ear. A soothing, calming action- for himself. A real, physical sensation that you could provide just by existing, just by letting him touch you.

You knew this routine well. The fact that even after weeks of sharing a bed he couldn’t always believe you were real- that this wasn’t some cruel trick where you would be carried away at any moment- it made you worry. He hadn’t shown you his past- but there were parts you didn’t need to see to understand. Nobody who had a good childhood grows up to take over the galaxy.

Still, you wanted to know who had done this to him. Who had created a man who felt he should- and would- control every planet his set his eyes on, a fierce and unforgiving warrior who could bury cities with his mind, and yet the same man who stared at you with those intense eyes, who touched you- held you to remember that you did, in fact, exist-- who made you finally feel special, not just another Order linguist, but someone important. Someone worth fighting for.

It was a question of possessiveness, perhaps. That he knew every world would yield to his boot sooner or later, but while he held you- you held a part of him as well. Worlds could be lost and rebuilt, but if he lost you, perhaps he’d lose that part of himself with you. And you knew Kylo- he hated to lose anything. 

“You’re thinking very loudly.”

You slid your eyes open at that, happy to observe him like this. Hair curling wildly around his face, eyes half-lidded and warm. You hummed a little noncommittal noise, surprised he wasn’t explicitly in your head already. “How long before the alarm?”

“Turned it off.” You grunted, moving closer to him- his arms falling around your sides, holding you against the warm planes of his body. You adjusted your head to slide under his chin, one ear pressed to his chest- the soothing sound of his even heartbeat lulling you back towards sleep. As close as this, his scent was overwhelming. Your eyes drifted closed, content to slip back into sleep. “Had the vision again.”

You stiffened, drew in a hard breath- he stroked your back, willing the muscles there to return to their relaxed state. “The other one. The battlefield.” 

You exhaled, slowly. Then quickly, a touch of elation sliding off you. You pulled away just a bit to look to him, your mind finding the pulse of his emotional response. “That’s good, right? Isn’t it?” 

His hand resumed stroking your hair. “Yes.” Sincerity, affection. You pressed close to him again, holding him tight in your arms, absorbing his warmth. If he was having the good vision that meant your life was back on track. Hopefully. The unspoken threat of the future had been lifted- or at least pushed aside. Either way it was better for everyone remotely involved with your life to dream of a good (if bloody) future together. He continued, equal parts amused and confused with this addition: “You had a lightsaber. And my mask was different.”

You tipped your head up, considering this. You didn’t ask to see the changed vision, knowing the symbolism would not be found in the visuals. But, you? With a lightsaber? That was a little hard to picture. But it was a part of a Jedi’s- and Sith’s, you supposed- training, to build their own saber. You knew not all of the Knights wielded lightsabers, yet. It was perhaps a little… flattering that the only two Knights with sabers would be together. 

However, the mask changed seemed ominous somehow. He wore it to battle- you couldn’t think of anything that would cause him to change his mask. “Do you think it’s important?”

You could feel his voice reverberate through his chest and throat, through the warm contact between your bodies. “No. Just clues to other events.”

You hummed again. So you’d make a lightsaber and Kylo would get a new mask. Perhaps it was just further in the future now- this vision. More things had to happen to reach that point now- but you _would_ reach it, or at least you were on that path, that was the important part. As long as you future stayed well away from streams on green planets and Kylo’s fist around your throat in anyway that wasn’t explicitly sexual, it was a good future. 

“Several platoons are going on a training mission, on Carline. Noon shiptime. I am to oversee them.”

“Mm?” Sounded like boring, regular training exercises for field troops. Nothing important, most likely, just something that couldn’t be simulated well enough. You weren’t sure how Kylo got roped into it- usually Kylo was uninterested in Hux’s troops or their training. It would’ve been too easy for him to veto such a request- any decently ranked officer could oversee training. Usually Phasma, with her strict sense of perfection and keen eye for outliers. 

You considered this, and ventured a thought: “Am I going with you?” 

You felt his chin dip with a nod, hand sliding up and down your spine, counting the knobs of vertebra. “Yes. You have a training mission of your own.” 

You narrowed your eyes, a touch of a smirk pulling at one side of your mouth. You doubted it would be a boring day, at least. “What kind of training mission?”

With a smirk of his own: “We’ll talk more on the surface.”

 

 

“Talking” was not the word you would use to describe what had transpired. As per usual there was a notable distinction between Lord Ren, the terrifying black shadow of the battlefield, and Kylo, your lover. You suspected it was probably just in part of being surrounded by stormtroopers, that he felt uncomfortable displaying _too much_ affection- such as, holding hands on the bridge. It wasn't that he was ashamed of your odd relationship (you rather think at this point he would be proud to flaunt you to the crew, would probably love to have them watch him mark your neck, littering bites and bruises along the skin while he takes you from behind-- just to show everyone you were _his_ , but that is neither here nor there), but rather he feared displaying affection towards you were undermine his authority. That showing a kindness to one would reflect on how he treated them all. But you could feel his mind, no matter what he said- knew the truth behind his actions. 

You had dressed in your almost Knightly robes; the newest additions to your closet- black undersuit, a thick, padded tunic, and a hooded black robe that fell to your ankles, cinched around the waist. From there you’d been escorted to Kylo’s personal shuttle, a large, black ship with extendable wings- it looked like a bird of prey, which felt quite fitting. Per usual two pilot 'troopers took to the cockpit and two fieldcaptains flanked Kylo, unsure if they should adjust their formation to flank you as well. 

On the surface, Carline was a somewhat small, temperate planet, dominated by ancient, thick and tall forests and low, weedy marshlands except at the poles- a good place to run basic tests on the efficiency of the stormtroopers. The training was to take place in the middle of one of these tall forests, the air was remarkably dry, making your nose itch soon after disembarking. You wondered if Kylo’s mask helped with that. You didn’t get the chance to ask- Kylo handed you a survival pack, the same one the troopers would be carrying. 

Survival gear- in case they were stranded or lost somewhere. A basic commlink, some rations, thermal blanket. Simple stuff, easy enough to produce and cost-effective to extending important personnel's lives. 

It wasn't quite fair how oddly enjoyable Kylo's mechanic voice was. You certainly adored his natural voice, but the innately commanding tone- the natural impersonal layer it placed between you two. It was undeniably thrilling. “The commlink is silenced, text-only. Go into the forest. You have until the training mission is complete to hide yourself.”

You took the pack warily, adjusting the screen on the comm and verifying the settings were correct. “And then what?”

Even though you couldn’t see it through that mask, you could feel that awful smirk radiating off his emotional response: “I come find you. If you make it back to the shuttle before I catch you, you win.” He wasn't expecting you to win his little game- hide and seek, it seemed. 

He moved in close, towering over you. Your head craned up to meet his eyes- could feel the crackle of energy even without the visual, his gaze burning into you through that visor. A gloved hand caught your jaw, thumb drawing your lower lip down. His natural voice disarmingly melodic after the odd, but not definitely unpleasant, mechanical buzz of the mask: _If I catch you before you make it back, I win. And I’ll fuck this pretty mouth of yours and won’t let you cum._

You didn’t need to ask what you’d win if you _did_ make it back first. He took a measured step away, resuming a respectful distance between you. Master and Apprentice. A fieldcaptain with a red shoulderguard passed by- “Hide your signature, or you won’t last very long.” And like that he turned away- fell into his dark shadowy persona, off to terrorize 'troopers- leaving you to plan your victory. 

 

 

 

You realized you hadn’t caught how long the training mission was supposed to be. Did you have one hour or five hours to hide? You figured to err on the side of caution- if you weren’t well-hidden by the time Kylo came looking, he’d find you immediately and you doubted you could outrun him. 

The farther away you hid, the better chance he wouldn’t sense you- that he would have to spend time searching. But, you were also farther away, it would take longer to get back to the shuttle. Hiding too close to the shuttle gave the opposite effect, he would be likely to find you, but you’d be near by. Neither extreme was very optimistic. 

You chose, of course, the mid-range option. With a spark of inspiration, you bolstered your chances of not being found: from a long-hanging branch, you jumped and pulled yourself up- using the Force to help lift your weight up and onto the branch. You figured he wouldn’t think to look up, that he might even wander right by you if you were lucky. If you weren’t, well. At least he’d have to spend time trying to follow you through the branches. 

Up in the greenery, four or five branches upwards, you settled in, leaning against the trunk. It wasn't a pleasant sensation- the alien bark beginning to dig into your back, but it was endurable. Especially with the prospect of Kylo's wager on the line. 

You needed to hide yourself- your mental self. At least you'd practiced this for a long time. A settling breath in, holding it, and letting it out. Repeating the process again. You needed to hide- hide what eyes couldn’t see. You closed your eyes, felt around you- felt your body within the Force. Breathing in, and out. You’d done this before- just, a long exhale. Imagine, breathing in your presence, pushing it down- putting it in a little box within yourself- disappearing...

 

 

 

You had no definitive way of knowing how much time had passed- the binary stars of this system had moved across the sky, but without knowing how long a Carlinian day was, this information was useless. It didn’t feel very long, perhaps an hour or two. 

The commlink blinked. A text message. You took a centering breath before reading it: _The lesson starts now._ You smiled. A game. A competition. With _Kylo Ren_ of all people. Maybe there wasn't much hope for you to win this little exercise- but damned if you wouldn't try. You needed to know where he was now- where he was starting from.

You closed your eyes- imagined the energy field near you. Your own signature locked away quietly, compressed down into a speck of dust. The planet was covered with floral life- shimmering with the Force. You could feel him- his presence causing a shift in the natural alignment of the planet. Like gravity, you concluded. He was well-attuned to the Force, his signature naturally more massive, more able to draw upon the ambient energy with ease. You hoped you had compressed yourself enough to not be noticed.

Oddly, there were no 'troopers near him- sent away, you suspected or at least hoped. He was near the shuttle, doing the same thing as you. Searching for the little ripples of your consciousness in the air. His attention, his mind turned towards you- you drew away, focusing on your breathing, regulating yourself into a quiet statue- perched in a tree, waiting. You counted thirty seconds, then reached towards the shuttle again. 

He’d moved- not directly towards you, but close enough to your general direction to cause alarm. You had a good few degrees of separation- he was heading slightly more to the west than your position- but it was still concerning. Had he sensed you or had it been random? You chided yourself lightly, recalling various lectures: there was nothing truly random about a Force-Sensitive’s life.

You waited, keeping yourself still as you felt him move through the trees. Drawing closer and closer, stalking through the thick trunks as he watched for you- eyes and mind sharp for your scent on the wind. A particular _snap_ of a twig- careless, you noted- and you knew he was nearby. You couldn’t see him, between branches and bushes and the angle you could only feel him through the Force. 

He was waiting for something- standing there, reaching out around him. His mind was like a spiderweb, little tendrils of darkness arching around him- sliding through the air, the very matter of the universe. And then. He turns away, hesitating. Considering his options. He moves even more western as you briefly catch a glimpse of his dark robe moving through the trunks of ancient trees. 

You waited until you can’t see him, and began to move. Quietly, keeping a careful touch on the Force, on your own compression, making sure your movements do not betray you physically or psychically. You move. It’s easy enough- the branches are large and thick, simple enough to crouch and scurry between one and another. You smiled at it- like a child playing a secret game, but with more at stake than a child’s pride to win. The preemptive shudder chasing down your spine, warmth settling in your belly because of what you could do to him- what you could make him do to you if you won his own little bet. With Hux's intervention you'd grown a little fond of Kylo's submissive side- you wouldn't mind to have that shown again.

You’re only a third of the way back when you feel it- Kylo’s signature abruptly vanishes. Just gone, missing completely from the Force. He’s found you, he must've. You pause for a moment, pondering, then sprint through the limbs- mind no longer focused on holding your power in, thinking only of catching your balance, springing you forward- back towards the looming black shuttle. You let the lust, the desire fuel you- felt its influence curl at your fingertips. He had found you- but how much of a lead did you have? Could you make it back to- to safety?

In the distance- through the thick, green limbs- you could see it. One of the broad, obsidian wings- perfectly upright, length partially retracted in its parked position. Intimidating, to look through trees and see only black durasteel on the other side. You were so close! To victory, to feeling that waft of pride off Kylo’s mind, to Kylo's thick lips buried in your cunt once more- the adrenaline surge pushed you harder, faster- legs aching as you neared the edge of the trees. 

The black wing took up most of your field of vision- just ten feet away now, and all you had to do was touch it. There were no trees left between you and the wing- ten feet of nothingness. You reached out a hand, threw yourself from the branch. The landing didn’t concern you, you’d used the Force enough to cushion your jumps. All you had to do was bridge that tiny gap, touch your fingers to that metal----

You were floating, descending without moving closer to the wing. Your arm outstretched, you jerked- reaching- it was _locked_ there. All your muscles were- frozen in place, bent to someone else’s will. You were facing the shuttle- his signature returning to the scene, so close behind you. Amused and slightly impressed touches to your mind. Very, very hard- you could feel it- heavy and warm against his thigh, aching from neglect. _Been thinking about this since we left._

Kylo tutted you through the mask, mock disappointment at your failure. He approached, circling around you- around the arm stretched so close- stars, just a foot away from that black durasteel. He moved behind you again, gloved fingers trailing over your shoulders and neck- a deceptively soft gesture for all the filth the back of his mind was supplying. “So _close_ \- and yet…”

He stood in front of you- waved his hand as you fell- the position from jumping not helping your knees and palms as they collided with the ground. The uneven surface was doing your body no favors, and yet the strange warmth of a star's light on your skin was so much more sensitive than just man-made lighting. You looked up to him- all black robes and shiny metal mask, so out of place with this serene world. You, on your knees before him- waiting for what he would inevitably do to you. He had, after all, already told you. 

The helmet- the cowl with it- tilting, watching you so carefully. “Go on.” No need to hesitate, he'd been worked up for a while now anyway. Your hands raised- unclipping his belt, cupping his aching hardness through the cloth of his suit. Your mouth watered, eager to have him falling apart above you. You shoved the rest of his clothes just enough out of the way- just enough not to impede your hands finding and stroking- tongue sliding along the underside, tracing a thick vein. 

He was groaning immediately, the anticipation and his own game proving too much stimulation on their own- his gloved hands fisting your hair, keeping it out of the way so he could watch you work on his cock- watch your cheeks flush, as he grinned and- _holy fuck-_

As the mirror sensation of two fingers slid up your sex- from entrance to clit- you moaned against him, mind echoing horrible, perverse thoughts back to him. You'd never even considered- to be so _explicit_ with it. You shuddered, rocking against the ghost sensations in time with your mouth working his cock. Kylo shot back _how_ he was doing it- the exact feelings he was aiming- and succeeding in creating with his mind alone. The pressure of two fingers, moving your wetness around, circling your clit as your knees spread, aching to be filled- and whining as another set of fingers slid into you, the first set rolling your clit. Your body instinctively clenching around air, around the pure physical force that was opening you up, aching for the overwhelming sensations he could so easily bring you.

It was disgusting, perverted- something as highly spiritual, reverential as the Force being used like this. It was one thing to assist in the ordeal- to hold you in a position he liked, to manipulate your muscles to his will- but to use it so _vulgarly_. To- to penetrate you with his mind. You shuddered- hands digging into his thighs as you took him in your mouth again. With every stroke your hips began to shift- little noises falling from your throat in desperation. The need beginning to take over, to feel him- his actual physical body- inside you.

It wasn’t long before the hands twisted in your hair began to hold you still rather than guide you- his hips moving to their own rhythm, the invisible fingers following suit, building a quick and bruising pace until your body was shaking with desire. His thrusts were beginning to stutter, murmurs of curses echoing between his lips and his thoughts. All it took was a well-timed glance up, through your eyelashes. You’d done this enough to know exactly what face was under that mask- exactly how his eyes were screwed shut, mouth hanging open- almost looking to be in pain- before burying your face against his abdomen. His cock twitched on your tongue, pouring cum down your throat in hot streaks.

In his bliss, the Force control he’d been using on your body had slipped away- you couldn’t blame him, you had both been anxious and pent up from the morning spent waiting. That didn’t mean you weren’t also anxious to get off- to feel his real fingers inside you, to have your walls clamp around them as you came. 

You patiently worked his length, licking up every dribble of cum that slid from the tip- only letting go when Kylo shifted, almost whining from overstimulation. He tucked himself away. You stared at him, expectantly, thighs rubbing together to get any friction at all. He watched this wanton display for a moment- and shrugged.

“Let’s go.” He moved away then, towards the lowered ramp into the shuttle. 

“What.” 

You could feel the cocky bastard’s smile. “I told you, I wasn’t going to let you cum if you lost.” 

Your mouth hung open- he _had_ said that, but. He'd never just- just outright denied you before. Your hand fell to the front of your suit- pressing hard against your clit through the fabric, moving roughly-- 

The darkness wrapped tight around your wrist, ice cold and firm- pulling it away from your body. Kylo stood at the end of the ramp- one hand raised. He considered you, you could feel the alternation of careful thought and prideful arousal. "If you're good, if you follow my instructions between now and when we arrive at the _Finalizer_ , I'll let you cum."

You wanted to glare, but for how pink your cheeks were and how your hips were twitching of their own accord- you had little choice but to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapter is a direct continuation. 
> 
> Come say hi or request something at [ my Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/)!


	22. Servitude [Explicit][Orgasm delay+ M/s]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're good and follow Kylo's instructions. In turn, you are rewarded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “So I just finished reading the latest update to your sinfully delicious fic on ao3 and as an avid reader and sinner, I was just wondering...how do you feel about thigh riding? Is there even the slightest possibility that that might be a thing?” via _Anonymous_ on Tumblr.
> 
>  **Contains** : Orgasm delay, choking, begging, talk of Master/slave dynamic, thigh riding, Kylo keeps the mask on for like 75% of it, almost exhibitionism or semi-public sex?, mentions of collars, the space equivalent to fucking while driving

Kylo moved straight to the pilot’s chair, not bothering to look back and check if you had followed. He began flicking switches and adjusting settings as you stood at the threshold of the cockpit, shifting your weight back and forth- producing any little friction you could. You rather wanted to try and slide your hand into your pants again, but that probably wouldn’t count as _being good_ since he’d stopped you before. You were willing to play his game- he always delivered on his promises. 

The engines hummed to life- the entire ship jerking as it lifted off the ground. Gears and joints sliding into place- the wings adjusting to flight position, you assumed. You’d read a little about the classes of ships- when you work with an organization that is nearly entirely oriented in spacecraft, rather than on planetoid bases like the Resistance, you picked up a few bits of information on your fleet. Kylo’s shuttle was, to say the least, _very_ nice-- equipped with abundantly powerful shield generators and jammers- advanced sensor arrays at the tips of the wings. Stocked with a few galactic standard days’ worth of supplies. A stunning piece of equipment- much like its owner.

You held onto the wall, letting the shifting sense of gravity sway you. Kylo’s hands floating over the controls like a second nature- the horizon shifted in the viewport, the green treetops sliding away- the ship moving out into space. The gray spearhead of the _Finalizer_ barely distinguishable from stars at this distance. Kylo sat back then, turning on what you assumed to be some sort of autopilot module. 

The chair spun, his blank mask betraying nothing. Even his emotional response was well-guarded, allowing only the residual bliss of his orgasm and the amusement at your current predicament- the heat pooled uncomfortably about your thighs, clit aching to be touched. He raised one hand and beckoned you forward- urging you to settle onto his lap- one leg on either side of a heavily-muscled thigh. His hands found your hips, pushing you downwards- rocking your body against his leg. The sensation was muffled through layers of clothing and robes, and yet, it was exactly what you wanted.

You tip your head back and moan at the much needed friction- feeling rather than hearing the laugh from Kylo’s chest. “My ship is fast, but we have some time.” The mechanical bite of his voice contrasted the warm hands on your hips- making you shiver, rock a little harder. From this angle the only thing you could see was the outline of Kylo’s dark helmet against the blackness of space, dotted with stars-- and the slowly growing shape of the _Finalizer_.

Kylo lifted your hips enough to tug away some of the robes that had impeded you- only your bodysuits and underwear separating you now, the friction more intense. Your hands circled around Kylo’s neck- the back edge of his helmet digging into your forearms lightly. “Did you enjoy our game?”

You nodded frantically. To be fair. You enjoyed most of his lessons, even if they left you sore and bruised. His hands stilled- forcing your hips to stop even as you tried blindly to keep moving against him. “Answer me.”

You couldn’t have stopped your response if you tried: “Yes- Master!”

You face flooded with shame, hot embarrassment making you want to curl up in on yourself. 

You hadn’t verbally referred to him as _master_ since before you’d fucked the first time- and you had never thought of him as such in this context. Though his title was the same, you definitely had not applied to apprenticeship to yourself. There was something horribly inappropriate about it- telling him just what you thought of him, of his control of your body. How for all the possibilities of the future, you were all too willing to do whatever he asked of you.

Somehow, shockingly, arousal spiked off Kylo’s emotional response- him just as shocked as you at his dick giving a hopeful twitch, even so soon after his last orgasm. His hands resumed their motion- rolling your hips in circles against his thigh- adjusting your bodies so his hardening dick was grinding against your own thigh as well. “Say it again.”

You hands grabbed at the sides of his helmet, thumbs rubbing over the metal bands- your forehead pressed approximately where his was, eyes staring into the black of his visor. It should’ve steadied you- to be looking into nothingness rather than meeting his eyes as intimately as the position would be without the mask. But it wasn’t. You could feel him staring at you from the inside of that screen, could feel his gaze as though the mask wasn’t there at all- perhaps the mask even made it worse like this. That it felt like the entirety of the visor was looking at you, rather than those expressive, dark eyes.

You channeled your anxiety, your shame into action and spoke, quietly: “Master,”

His breath shuddered through the modulator, one hand leaving your hips to tangle tightly in your hair, pulling back. In another other case you would expect him to lay bites around your neck, cover your skin with fresh marks of ownership. But your high Knight’s collar covered most of the column of your throat- and Kylo’s mask was still in place. From the rough angle your head was pulled to- back, away from Kylo’s mask- you fought to keep the approximation of eye contact.

“Did you really think you would win?”

On instinct you began to nod, only to meet the sharp pain of Kylo’s grip keeping your head in place. “Y-yes, Master.” 

His leg ground up into you, matching your downward stroke- the resultant friction making you whine pleasantly, your cunt aching to be filled- maybe by something _real_ this time.

“Did you like what I did to you?” He leaned forward, hand still on your hip pressing down as his hips jerked up- your thighs clenching around his, rocking frantically. “That I could fuck you with my mind? Didn’t even have to lay a _finger_ on you?” His hand moved inwards- thumb reaching for your clit while his palm still directed your grinding.

You moaned, all too happy to babble out anything he could ask for now- you were too close and had been held too anxiously for too long. “Yes!” 

“Yes, what?” He ground up so hard it bordered on cruelty- his leg nearly completely leaving the seat to press flush against your cunt.

“ _Fuck_ -! I, Yes, Master! I loved it!”

A growl reverberated through his chest, the hand in your hair gripping tighter- any pain in your scalp lost to your hips jerking through any rhythm you once had--“Tell me-”

The static-distressed transmission of the console cut through whatever Kylo had begun to say. You wailed, Kylo’s hands stilling immediately. “Command Shuttle KR-01, you are cleared for approach- your hangar is ready, Sir.” 

The chair spun around- you still in Kylo’s lap as he faced the controls once more while you stared at the back of the cockpit over Kylo’s shoulder.He kept his left hand on your hip- no longer stroking your clit, just holding you in place- the hand that had been fisted in your hair pressed to your skull, guiding you to drop your head to Kylo’s shoulder, happy for the padded armor and robes to cushion your forehead. “Keep moving. Do _not_ cum.” 

You whined in response, your hips stuttering back to life. You were embarrassingly wet, you could feel it now. How easily your lips slid together as you rocked against him. You wanted so badly to thrust madly, to grind down onto his thigh until you saw white. But you still had to be good for him. So you bit into the fabric of his cowl- let your teeth sink into the worn cloth- your fist gathering handfuls behind his neck. 

Kylo’s hands were moving, flicking switching and adjusting the controls- unconcerned with the mess he’d made of you. You could feel the soft shudder of entering the hangar bay’s atmos. The landing nearly made you cum, jerking you wildly across Kylo’s hips- near vibrations as the engines powered down. Your whole body was wound up tight- a heavy pressure lingering in your abdomen, aching to be released. Kylo shifted downwards and you nearly cried out- nails biting into his robes as you begged softly- only half aware the words were tumbling from your lips, “please… please…” 

His voice in your mind soothed the burning ache, _Shhh,_ “Turn around,” Your limbs wouldn’t obey, but you allowed Kylo to maneuver you how he wanted- so your back was pressed to his chest. His hands made short work of your robes, unclipping the black material at the waist, but letting them hang off your shoulders- already moving to shove your pants down. You struggled to kick them the rest of the way off your legs while Kylo’s hands had moved behind you, unclipping his own belt, then raising to pull his mask off- dropping it somewhere behind him with a dull, heavy noise.

His cock- stiff and wet for you, again- brushed against your outer lips, coating himself in your wetness- bumping up against your clit as he struggled to adjust you, to lift and spread your legs enough so he could press against your entrance- you ended up with one leg hooked over the armrest of the pilot’s chair, while the other hung limply- the angle too odd for your feet to brush the floor. Just hanging there, at Kylo’s mercy. He prodded at you- You looked up. 

You were sitting in Kylo’s lap, partially naked, about to get fucked-- and all around you rows of officers and ‘troopers were walking by. Clear as day through the viewport. You gasped in horror-

Kylo dropped your weight onto him- impaling you on his dick, the sudden intrusion nearly making you cum on the spot if it weren’t for- “ _Kylo,_ ” You pushed away from him, face burning red. “No, they’ll-”

“It’s one-way.” His voice hummed into your ear, the first time you’d heard it in hours. “They can’t see us.” You relaxed a little- his hips pushed up, into you again- “Can’t see you begging for me to make you cum,” 

You moaned at that- too worn out to even fight it.Your head fell back against Kylo’s shoulder, his long hair brushing against the side of your face- one of your hand reaching up and tangling into his hair, holding onto the back of his skull. His pace was rough- bouncing you physically on his cock so that your breasts and his hair shook with the effort. He couldn’t get very deep with this angle, but every stroke pushed at that sweet spot, the angle making you feel stretched and full.

His right hand found your throat- forced you to look up, outside the viewport- at the monochromatic figures wandering by. They had no clue their commander was fucking anyone right there, anyone could look at that transparisteel and never even know-- His fingers stroked over the material of your undersuit, _could put a fucking collar on you, no one would ever know_. Kylo’s hand squeezed gently, the other finding your aching clit in quick strokes-

His voice was rough, breathy: “Go on, beg for me,” 

You opened your mouth, ready to plead with your life- his hand tightened, nothing but a forced gasp came from your mouth. You tried- “puhhhhh---” 

“I can’t hear you,” His hand switched to tight circles, your walls clenching around him in desperate warnings- “You have to talk louder.”

His hand loosened enough for you to pull in a breath and- “Please le-” tightened again, catching the words in your throat. You entire lower body and head tingled, were sure your nails were biting straight through the cloth on his arms for how tightly you were gripping now. You were so close- you’d take deep breaths, try and redirect the stimulation elsewhere but you couldn’t even breathe now and-

“You _will not_ cum until I tell you.” Your mouth opened in a silent plea, eyes clenching shut- trying to focus on anything at all that was not the relentless pace of his fingers on your clit or his cock slamming into you- “Last chance, darling.” 

His hand relaxed- “ _Pleaseletmecum!IneedtocumpleasepleasePLEASE!_ ” The words all falling together- rushing out in one breath of air, refusing to be silenced again-

He bent forward, folding you along with him as his cock brushed new places inside you- “Please, what?”

You sobbed, you were so close- too close, you couldn’t hold back much longer--“Please, Master! Please! I- I _need_ ” 

“That’s all you had to say,” He teased, his lips finding the side of your jaw, whispering into your ear, “Cum for me,” 

Your body arched, shaking and clenching rhythmically around Kylo’s cock as he quickly followed you over that edge- your thighs shaking so hard the one that had been on the armrest had dislodged itself- your entire body spasming. 

Your body was still shivering when one arm circled around your waist- the other crossing diagonally up your chest- holding you back against him as your mind tried to return to normalcy. The pressure of his arms just holding you together was pleasant, your hands moving to rest over his. Your breathing cycled together, the heavy pants of his breath warming your shoulder.

You felt boneless, completely spent and melted over Kylo’s body like the topping to a sundae. You blinked slowly- watching a platoon of ‘troopers march by. You could tell, distantly, Kylo was thinking of his own comment about a collar. A little black leather thing, with a name tag. He was trying to decide between something derogatory and sexual or something more serious. 

You shifted against him, wincing as the mess between your thighs slid around. “I never realized you were a pilot.” 

The comment catches him so off guard he huffed a single laugh, one hand lifting to lay over his face- collect some of the cooling sweat. “My grandfather was a pilot.” 

You pause, processing the comment. He hasn’t realized what he’s said yet, you think. You turn your head and he’s staring out the viewport, watching the same group of troopers, his emotional response blank. That’s the most he’s ever mentioned about his family to you. So much of his childhood is hidden behind barriers, and you had just been waiting for him to open up. 

You wanted to cry tears of wordless joy- that he had trusted you with any information about himself at all. You cup his jaw with one hand, turning him towards you to catch him in a kiss. Slow and sweet in the post-orgasmic haze, opening your mind to shower him with affection. He hummed in a pleasant response- a gentle inquiry as to _why_ hung behind it. You reflected his own admission back to him- his expression half blank and half genuine shock. 

He turned away, slightly upset. A gray cloud growing over his emotional response, “You wouldn’t like who I was. Who my family was.” He doesn’t say that he’s still not sure how you can even like him as he is now, but the tentative sense of rejection that flits at the edge of his mind is cue enough.

You catch his jaw again, force him to look at you with those sad eyes. “I’d like to know more about your life, but it won’t change what I think of you. It doesn’t matter who you used to be, I’m in love with you now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi at [ my Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/)


	23. [MINI] Spectator [Explicit][Toys + Voyeurism?]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, another surprise chapter because I can't keep my fantasies vague any more.  
> Unedited. 
> 
> **Contains** : Kind of masturbation?, Kylo being a little creepy but he means well, a rabbit vibrator (seriously, where is he getting these toys??), 
> 
> a kink that probably has a name but I dont know it: wherein Person A is just like, out of their fucking mind with pleasure/desperation and Person B is just, more or less totally composed.

He watched. Lips parted, wet tongue sometimes peeking out to wet them- his high cheeks flushed pink. Eyes gone dark with desire- completely entranced with your body. And yet, he remained fully clothed. Only his helmet missing- just so you could see his face. His arms moving subtly, matching your hips’ stuttering movements, keeping the toy in place despite your best efforts to dislodge it. _You look so beautiful like this…_

You moaned- hands raising over your head to fist in the sheets. You’ve been at this for a while now. Your back half arched off the bed- lifted into the air as you struggled to thrust back against the vibrator- rocking on the balls of your feet. Your thrusts were clumsy- not even or hard enough, never quite maintaining the angle between thrusts. Kylo helped a little, keeping the vibrator steady- somehow controlled through this mess- adjusting his grip to halfway meet your own thrusts. 

You bite your lip and throw your head to the side- strands of hair stuck to your face with sweat. He’s achingly hard in his pants- you can feel his arousal compounding your own- but he’s too busy admiring the view. Eyes tracing the lines of your body as you writhe on the sheets- limbs only half under your conscious control as you work tediously towards orgasm. 

You knew- and he knew it too which is exactly why he wasn’t- if Kylo just held your hips down, took over the thrusting for himself that you’d come undone in no time at all. Two or three good thrusts, pressing the vibrating attachment flush against your clit for just one full moment- that’s all it would take. But he doesn’t. He only keeps the toy in place, only changes the angle subtly. 

He touched you then- the leather of his glove feels cool against your overheated skin. It’s not a touch meant for you, you know. He’s running his hand up your thigh, your hip- moving up your side and rib cage, brushing the underside of your breast-- and sliding over your belly on the way back down. His fingertips follow old stretch marks, follow the curve of your stomach. You want his hand to go lower- but it settles onto your hip once more. Not guiding, not helping, just resting there- fingers stroking idly.

You met his eyes for a moment- no longer is he staring at where the vibrator is sliding into your body nor cataloging all the places your flush when you’re aroused, not committing every little noise that falls from your lips to memory. His eyes met yours- and they’re as full of lust as they are of adoration. The hand on your hip grips a little tighter- pulling you towards him, guiding your body- burying the vibrator inside you and rocking it against your clit-

He watches you fall apart, watches as your eyes snap closed, mouth hanging open- he sees all the little tremors that shake your body, the way your hands are fisted into the sheets. In your head he can feel the hot waves of pleasure, can feel how blissfully blank your mind is. 

He switched off the vibrator, gently removed it, even as your walls try to clamp down harder on it. Still twitchy and sensitive, he rubbed his gloved hands over your hips and waist- over your thighs and belly. Just watching, watching your breath slowly cycle back to normal, the color fade from your cheeks. He can even feel when your brain begins to work again, putting together coherent thoughts beyond the primal physical responses to his touch. 

You met his eyes again, tired and very satisfied. One hand moved, brushing some of your hair off your face- a touch of a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. _You look so beautiful like this…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr. ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/)  
> 


	24. Equality [Explicit][With Phasma]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Kylo approach Phasma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reached a new level of apathy with this chapter. Terribly sorry about the wait, I think I should be able to get stuff out quicker with this one out of the way.
> 
>  **Contains:** Threesome, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, Inappropriate use of the Force, NotAllthatIntoDicks!Phasma, Kylo keeps everything (including the mask) on,

It was different than with Hux. With Hux it was Kylo’s idea- Kylo’s plan. He’d wanted to seduce the General and he’d worked with Hux long enough to know just how to get under his skin. Offer a man as controlled as the General power- without any obvious repercussions- and he’d surely take it. It was just a matter of phrasing the question to make it feel as though Hux had made that decision himself.

Phasma, however... The Captain was painfully loyal to the Order- strict with regulations, but not as tightly wound or anxious as Hux. She was proud of her troops, she and her teams working flawlessly in the fields- leading them to victory with crisp accent and shining armor. She wouldn’t be swayed by power over a Knight (not that Kylo was willing to debase himself again for Phasma- he was still trying to plot his revenge of Hux), nor did you suspect she’d be particularly interested in disciplining you-- you had never been under her direct command nor had you ever proved a nuisance to her. You’d only seen her when she was working out or in passing, once at a meeting you had attended while shadowing Kylo.

Even when you skimmed her mind, it was hard to decide how to approach the topic. She was not as physically repressed as Hux- her battles with her troops and compulsive training exercises kept most of her physical needs at bay. Besides which, she didn't particularly seem to have any sort of- well. Direct preferences as Hux did. That is to say, preferences such as seeing Kylo Ren on his knees. You had nothing to work with. This inability to create a plan wore on for the better part of a week, going back and forth between ideas and plots. Thoroughly unsure of how to proceed in your own plot to seducing an officer of the First Order. Your anxiety on the topic transferring to Kylo through your constant proximity from shadowing him. Ultimately, Kylo’s patience had worn too thin.

You had noticed you weren’t headed towards your normal, perpetually “reserved” training room- no, this one was one further from your quarters. You didn’t think much of it- until, of course, you felt them: the Captain (and three other, unsuspecting, unrelated ‘troopers) were in this particular room. 

Dressed down to some workout gear, holding a planking pose while reading some report on her datapad. Her skin just beginning to shine with sweat- her short hair dipping over her head as she stared at the pad laid directly under her. She looked up as you two walked in, raised an eyebrow. She was considering leaving, knowing that surely you would prefer the room to yourselves. Kylo beat her to the punch- he cast a hand towards the other ‘troopers and with the slightest dark thread of Force-persuasion cast between his fingertips and their minds, commanded them: “Leave.” 

They each repeated the command back, tones completely blank- and left the room.

Phasma stood, her cool gaze shifting between the cloaked figures before her. You could feel your face begin to flush, your mind working quickly to provide some salutation that could even remotely count as seductive.

Instead, Kylo spoke: “My apprentice and I are. Here to proposition you.” 

You really would’ve preferred to just melt into the floor and perhaps never talk to Phasma again. Maybe go throw yourself out an airlock. But Phasma’s light eyebrows rose steadily, her eyes trailing over your body, then Kylo’s. Her emotional response spoke of an undeniable interest, if not a little shocked (and pleased) at Kylo’s blunt proposal.

“ _Oh_ ,” She spoke, a touch of a knowing smile sliding at her lips. “It was _you_ who had the General in such a good mood.”

You could feel Kylo’s smug grin under his mask. The crew had certainly noticed their leader being a little less uptight and had joked that he’d finally gotten laid- not that anyone could figure out who it was he’d bedded. There was a betting pool going around as the crew had gossiped on who the unlucky crewman was- current odds said it was a technician.

“Both of us, yes.” Kylo corrected her.

She crossed her arms, one eyebrow aching as her eyes danced between you. Her gaze lingered on your face- mostly because she couldn’t see Kylo’s, couldn’t read his expression. “What exactly are you up to, then? Sleeping your way through the officers?”

“No!” You cut in, startling even yourself. Wrangling your voice back under control: “Just you and Hux. No one else.” You glanced up to Kylo for confirmation- the slightest shift towards a nod was all the approval you needed. 

Phasma stared at you for a moment, weighing her options. She hadn’t noticed you as you had her, but it seemed, at the least, you were to her liking. She could find no immediate reason _not_ to accept, but there was something--- “I’m uninterested in being penetrated by a male. Only oral or manual stimulation.” She looked to Kylo’s blank mask, “Is that acceptable?” 

Kylo looked to you, passing the judgement to you. You thought, for a moment, of your face buried between her powerful thighs. Full-on blushing, you caught Phasma’s gaze again, and nodded. “Definitely, yeah. I. I can work with that.” 

 

 

For all the hard muscles she so purposely cultivated and the steely, unflappable soldier’s mindset, her lips were as soft as anyone else’s. Phasma’s tongue was purposeful in its movements, aggressive- but not wild and insatiable like Kylo’s kiss. You could feel the urge tugging at the corners of her mind- she wouldn’t mind giving you some choice bruises, bite marks around your neck. Perhaps it was her sharply attuned intuition that held her back from doing so-- the idea alone was making Kylo hum with possessive energy. 

He felt strangely about this setup- you had agreed to it, before. And surely this was akin to what you had felt as Hux rode him, but it was… different, seeing you kissing someone else. But Kylo’s jealousy was no new trait to be discovered- it had only taken a new form. More importantly, you wanted this. Had wanted this since you had arrived on the _Finalizer_ and saw the Captain training- before you had even wanted Kylo. And, if he were honest, Kylo was fairly sure he’d bring the entire galaxy to its knees if that was what you wanted.

When you curled one hand at the base of her skull, fingers sliding through her short blonde hair, she mirrored the action- one of her hands twisting into your hair, angling you upwards, while the other fell and began to tug at the hem of your Knight’s robes. 

But she was unfamiliar with the clothing, and while both your eyes were closed- happy to indulge in the sensations of one another’s tongues, another set of hands settled at your waist. You hadn’t quite realized Phasma and Kylo were actually nearly the same height until Kylo was towering behind you, eyes level with Phasma as she stepped away- pulling her workout gear off while Kylo’s hands uncinched your robes- your own hands grabbing at your pants.

It took you far longer to undress than Phasma did, but she didn’t seem to mind- pleased to watch as you and your Knight stumbled through the clasps of armor and cloth. Little touches of interest shifted off her, some as vague as noting how a Knight’s armor came together, some a little more defensive as she realized Kylo had no intentions of undressing. 

You moved towards her, your fingertips trailing over the edges of well-defined muscles. You urged her to lay back, let your hands wander over her skin. You cupped her breasts- reading for how she liked to be touched. It was easier, now that the planning was over. Now that you could just settled a bit of your own mind in the back of hers, to know exactly what she desired. You flicked her nipples with your thumb and earning a breathy gasp in response. You leaned down, replacing one hand with your mouth, drawing the stiffened nub into your mouth- the heat relaxing it back into softness. Phasma twisted a hand into your hair, a sharp inhale echoing in the empty room to show her approval.

This, however, was a little too much. You heard the scraping of cloth- Kylo’s warm body situating behind you and, ah. While you were bent over Phasma, Kylo had perfect access to your lower body. He pressed the outline of his half-hard cock- still confined to his pants- against your exposed sex, the texture of the cloth rubbing pleasantly against the sensitive skin. His gloved hands settled on your hips, rocking your body against him. You thought, distantly, that his pants would stain.   
Your lips left Phasma’s breast and travelled down, leaving little wet kisses in their wake. You moved how you knew you liked it, and modified based on Phasma’s reaction- attentive and watchful for the little hitches in her breath or if her fingers tightened in your hair. As you moved down, your hips pressed harder back against Kylo’s body, grinding against him.

The blond patch of hair between her legs was thick and neatly groomed, like everything else about Phasma’s body. You braced yourself on your forearms, shuffling back a little more to press kisses and nips across the insides of her thighs. One of Kylo’s hands slid around to your front, stroking at your clit as you moaned against Phasma’s skin, sucking a mark into her leg. Only then did you watch her face- keep a close eye on her responses, and tentatively begin to lick at her cunt. 

Her hips shifted upwards- those beautiful muscles along her thighs flexing- angling and displaying herself like a feast. You suckled at her labia, savoring her taste and laving every spec of skin with your tongue, exposing every secret her body had. 

Behind you, you caught the metallic noises of Kylo’s belt being unbuckled and cloth shifting about- the strange, distant sensation of his cock being pulled free filtering through your connection. He stroked himself with one leather-covered hand. You weren’t sure who established the link- the more sense-based one, but for a moment you could see yourself through his eyes. See the planes and shape of you back, the curve of your spine- the mess of your hair and Phasma’s pale hand fisted into it. Even Phasma’s face, flushed, eyes half-lidded as she stared down at you.

You moaned against Phasma’s clit, lapping at it. Kylo pressed the head of his cock against you- prodding, taunting you. You groaned and shifted your hips back against him- rewarded with a string of amusement off Kylo’s mind. Your attention returned to Phasma- sucking her clit into your mouth, massaging it more forcefully with your tongue and lips as her breath began to catch, panting.

Kylo’s voice filtered into your mind: _Write with your tongue._

The comment catches you off guard- your mind reeling to make sense of the otherwise lust-blurringly cryptic remark. _What?_

Kylo pushed into you then, sheathing himself fully in your tight, wet heat- the pleasant ache of being stretched open making you draw away from Phasma’s cunt for a moment just to moan you assent. One of Kylo’s hands settled onto your hip, guiding you into his rhythm- keeping your steady and not falling face-first onto Phasma. The other grasped the back of your neck, his hand nearly large enough for thumb to meet middle finger at the front of your throat.

He wasn’t trying to choke you- though, you knew he could if he wanted. He shifted his weight, bearing down onto the back of your neck until your mouth resumed its work on the woman before you. _Write Basic on her clit with your tongue._

You paused, but took his advice. You traced out the sharp lines of _aurek_ , the broken, dotted circle of _besh_ , three vertical lines of _cresh_. You could feel the appreciation radiating off Phasma’s mind, with the small noises she’s making. Only when you get to _onith_ does her hand tighten in your hair. You repeat the character, dragging your tongue up the curved sides, making straight lines for the bottom and top. Her thighs clench around your head, her hips raising to grind against your face.

Kylo’s warm laugh filters into your mind again, dark and breathless: _Do you know which letters you like?_ The pace of his hips picking up in time with Phasma’s moaning, the momentum rocking through all three of you- your nose brushing into those neatly kept blonde hairs. _Do you know what I write on your flesh every time I make you cum on my tongue?_

You lifted your hands, grabbed onto Phasma’s hips and held her steady- working faster and harder, spelling through any phrase you could think of- repeating the _onith_ character between words. Between your own lust, the lust and pleasure you read off Kylo and Phasma’s responses, and your mind trying processes what you were trying to write, you couldn’t even think of responding to Kylo’s taunting beyond the primal emotions you reflected towards him.

It only takes a little more attention to Phasma’s clit before her body is arching up- one hand fisting your hair nearly painfully. A groan falls from her lips, while you continue to lick at her clit as her thighs shake, slowing your pace gradually until she’s pushing away from you, her clit too sensitive post-orgasm. 

As soon as Phasma has moved back, collapsing onto the floor and gasping, Kylos hand clappd on the back of your neck, his weight forcing your face down to the cold floor, cheek pressed awkwardly to support your upper body. His hips snapped aggressively into you, your thighs and ass almost burnin for how hard he was hitting them with his own body. _Here, I’ll give you a hint,_

The feather-light, phantom sensation materialized around your clit- the air humming with the raw extension of his power. He was rubbing a pattern onto the bundle of nerves, over and over making the same marks- pulling you too close to the edge before slowing his Force-hand’s pace. Your hands scraped at the floor, aching to press against him again. 

The pattern changed, focusing on one character at a time. You focused, tried to feel those vague, small sensations of exactly what he was doing to you. A nearly boxed shape- missing, one side? He repeated the motion two, three times- lingering when you couldn’t tell if it was cherek or-- _Krill…_ An angled mark, the lowest point at the bottom of your clit- _Yirt-_

Even your mind’s voice was gasping by now, aching for his pace to resume, to let you cum. The next mark was similar to the last, just turned slightly- the lowest mark now at the bottom-right edge, just under the hood and- _Leth,_

Kylo barely needed to start the next symbol, your mind spelling too happily, _Osk!_ Your nails scraped over the floor, your hips aching- the fake-finger’s pace on your clit picking up again, spelling it out over and over against your flesh, _K-Y-L-O_.

He leaned over you, close enough to hear his breath catching under his mask- his modulator spitting bits of static in response. He hisses in you mind, _You belong to me, your body belongs to me--_.

 _Yes, Yes! I’m yours! I--_ He keeps pounding into you, keeps spelling his name on your clit like a brand as you finally clench around him, choking out a strained “Oh, _Kylo_ ,” 

 

 

You can feel, with your body still pressed to the cool floor, that Kylo is seriously regretting not taking his robes off. Or at least his mask. The physical sensation of sweat dripping and gathering just under his jaw is sliding between your bodies, making your rub at your own jaw. Your heart is still pounding in your chest when Phasma finally sits up. “I can see why Hux was in a good mood.”


	25. Secrecy [Explicit][Public Force Sex]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Kylo attend a meeting! It's very boring, so Kylo makes it less boring!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So a suggestion for love is a four letter word: Kylo and reader are at some official meeting or something where there are important people around or something and kylo uses the force to stimulate reader and they have to try to hold in their moans and keep in their orgasm while Kylo is loving watching them trying to keep themselves together." via _Anonymous_ on Tumblr.
> 
>  **Contains** : Inappropriate use of the Force x 6, a little bit of Force-choking, Public sex.

Most days, nothing particularly interesting happened. You and Kylo woke, checked for any urgent pending messages, had breakfast, attended any necessary meetings, debriefings, or other authoritative events, had lunch, and trained- alternating between Force powers and physical strength. Intimate moments thrown about randomly through the day. While it wasn’t toe-to-toe dogfighting with the Resistance every day, it was at least informative to shadow Kylo through these meetings and formalities. You saw much more of the day-to-day lives of other First Order personnel; saw the bustle and strangely cohesive machine that was made of individuals. And yet, at its head was Kylo. 

At the bridge, you were no longer the strange translator who _happened_ to be holding Kylo Ren’s hand, occasionally sneaking glances at his mask from the corner of your eye. Nor were you simply a faceless Knight. You understood, now, why Kylo wore his mask. Not just to hide his expressions or for purely battle-related reasons, nor to help separate Kylo from Ren; but the pure, instinctive intimidation that was pronounced even among your allies. It was as important as the ranking cuffs around Hux’s uniform- it was a statement of where you sat in the hierarchy of the Order.

You were caught somewhere in-between, like most apprentices, you thought- neither a Knight nor just a First Order asset. Your situation and status had been roughly the same since Kylo had first discovered you in that hallway- constantly being torn between your station and Kylo’s training, but at least then nobody else knew about the nature of your frequent visits to Lord Ren. Back then people thought you were fucking him. To be fair, people still thought you were fucking him (which you were), but at least now they kept it to mild whispers and the general rumors of Knight of Ren orgies (you hadn’t asked about that). 

But now you- _you of all people!_ had been discovered to be Force-Sensitive. And nobody was quite sure how to treat someone who used to be a new, quiet co worker, but now was among the league of People Who can Kill with their Minds. The people like the fearsome Kylo Ren. There had been enough people on the _Finalizer_ who had been Force-choked for the hiveminded fear of the Knights to have taken quite a hold on the crew. Covering yourself in these heavy-sewn robes and cloaks and dark cloths certainly did not inspire your former co-workers to fall back on whatever pleasant memories they had of you. 

Nonetheless, you shadowed Kylo throughout his various tasks. Stood next to him in meetings, observed his managing of resources and information. You had not had the chance to see him in combat yet- typically the ‘troopers were more than capable enough to handle the situation on their own- nor had you seen him in an interrogation, the rumors of that were enough to unsettle you. You didn’t need to see that side of him just yet. But the only thing you were not _allowed_ to attend was his meetings with the Supreme Leader- today, with General Hux.

And considering the vague memories and connotations you had picked up out of Kylo’s mind about the nature of his meetings with the Supreme Leader, you had no desire to see the man in person. Or, in hologram. But more importantly you did not wish to hear his voice, strange and raspy and chilled beyond any living being’s voice should be.

And so you patiently waited in the hallway, typing away on your small datapad for a handful of corrections on files that had been translated. Occasionally you picked up Kylo’s emotional response, though you each rather tried to keep the connection dampened through these meetings. Somewhat for security, somewhat out of habit- the Knights were well-guarded even amongst their leader and their peers. But mostly in these meetings he was respectfully blank, listening to the Leader’s commands- updating him on that status of various mission goals. 

Today, however, indignation and annoyance were flooding hot through the connection- his brow actually physically hurt for how tightly scrunched it was beneath his mask. Even through this unusual set of emotions you could feel Kylo protecting his mind from Snoke’s far-reaching gaze. Sensing Kylo and Hux approaching, you slid your datapad into a pocket and stood, clasping your hands politely behind your back in parade rest. 

Hux left first, his greatcoat hanging off his shoulders- his response was just as agitated as Kylo’s, but his face was only slightly warped in disgust, more framed as impatience and the necessity to attend his next meeting. His eyes met yours as they passed, and he couldn’t help the further flicker of annoyance and the entirely unbidden recollection of how your tongue felt in his mouth. He tamped that memory down aggressively, too busy to consider your next liaison at the moment. 

Kylo was close behind the General, a solitary tug at your mind was all it took for you to fall into step behind his cloaked frame. “It seems,” The mechanical voice of his mask pointedly drawled, “We have an extra meeting to attend today.”

Immediately you felt it: a slight shift in how the day would progress. Nothing explicit like a full-on vision, but the gears and wheels of the machinations of the galaxy turning, moving the future with it. This meeting was important- perhaps not to the Knights, or to Kylo. In fact you had the impression Kylo would be horribly bored throughout the entire display. But it was important to Hux, specifically, and it was vital to the Order. It would change something, today.

If Kylo noticed your attention drifting away from the present and towards some unseeable immediate future, he made no comment- verbal or otherwise.

“There’s no need to be petulant, Ren.” Hux responded, leading the group towards the closest set of lifts and summoning one. “I would prefer you stay out of _my_ Stormtrooper program just as well. Nothing in this meeting will be of interest to you, but the Supreme Leader has ordered it,” Green eyes slid to stare at the blank visor of Kylo’s mask. “Or is that not reason enough for you?”

You could feel Kylo’s jaw clenching, working at the implication. “The Supreme Leader is wise; there must be something in the meeting to require my presence.” You each entered the lift, you standing slightly behind Kylo’s side, past the edge of Hux’s peripheral vision. “Perhaps the Supreme Leader no longer trusts your judgement on the matter, General.” 

“And perhaps he wishes to show you how to actually be of use to the First Order.” Kylo’s shoulders drew up, tensing as his lip twitching into a sneer, fingers curling into a fist. A tendril of darkness slid around his wrist, the energy readily available at Kylo’s growing anger. 

Perhaps if this wasn’t a near daily exchange between the co-commanders you would be more worried about Hux’s personal safety. To your knowledge Kylo had never actually brought about immediate physical harm to Hux. But you would have to sit with them through a meeting on ‘trooper policy, and it would be in everyone’s best interest- including Kylo’s- for them to not enter the room prepared to rip at each other’s throats.

So, you reached to him, placed your hand lightly at his back, just above his belt- just barely stroking through the numerous layers of cloth. A soothing action just to pull him away from the fight- from the growing urge to choke Hux until he was blue. You pressed a quietness towards his mind and through your fingers, trying to calm his storm brewing and the increasing tension in his body. 

The folds and shape of his hood shifted slightly, and with his next exhale some of the tightness in his shoulders was released, slumping slightly more than they had before. A similar calm was pressed back towards you, a touch of resignation, the low undercurrent of daily annoyance with Hux still ever-present. You knew, somehow, it felt like a kiss- a silent show of thanks in return for redirecting his anger. You stroked his back once more, and dropped your hand before Hux could see you.

 

 

The conference room was bigger than the ones you had been in before as you had shadowed Kylo, or even as your previous position as a translator. It was designed for the higher-ranking officers in mind, doubtless- a notable setup for whomever was presenting and a long, utilitarian, gray, rectangular table in the center of the room. Hux laid his greatcoat over the back of the chair at the head of the table, adjusted his cuffs and sat, skimming reports on his datapad while you waited. 

You touched his mind, softly- mostly there was only the white noise of Hux’s internal narrator- he’s reading a report on progress on Starkiller. It’s nearly complete, and an odd sense of accomplishment and even more odd sense of arousal sliding off his mind. But there’s a touch of easiness, too- more grounded in the present: why you and Ren are still standing- he’s waiting for Ren to take the chair immediately to Hux’s left. He’s even a little annoyed at himself to letting this strange lack of sitting to take any of his attention.

So Kylo doesn’t do as Hux has planned. Kylo took the chair to Hux’s right. His mask turned to watch you, a vague motion with his hand as though he’d offered you the chair as a polite gesture rather than some petty act to further annoy Hux- have him sandwiched between you and Kylo. Maybe that was his revenge plan. You accept the spot anyway. Hux made no comment on this.

Nonetheless, various officials began filing into the room over the next several minutes. Some paused to cast wary glances between yourself and Kylo- their emotional responses echoing the same sentiment of sudden malaise, but ultimately they each settled into their chairs and shifted their numerous reports around in preparation. 

Captain Phasma sat to your left. Despite your recent escapade with her, she remained collected and unbothered by your presence at the meeting. You couldn’t see her face, but her mind was shockingly steady.

As soon as the last attendee had settled into his chair, Hux launched into introducing the topic at hand: the annual full-report and discussion of the Stormtrooper program. “While we have no immediate _problems_ with the program, this meeting is to foresee and address possible future concerns and to maximize efficiency.” Hux motioned towards a dark-skinned man with a single mole on his cheek. His emotional response was a mix of indignation and impatience- he had more than a few opinions to be heard. “Brigadier General Torosian, you may proceed.”

You thought towards Kylo: _“Foresee future concerns?” Is that why we’re here?_ It was a plausible reasoning- if either of you received a vision or sudden insight on the matter then you could immediately speak it… But visions were not always straightforward or helpful. Just possible outcomes.

Kylo made no physical sign to show he had heard you, not even his hood shifted. _Perhaps, but speculation won’t help. It is entirely possible the Supreme Leader just desires us to be more informed on the Stormtrooper program._ There was a note of reverence to his mental voice; there always was when discussing orders from Snoke. You didn’t comment beyond that-- you were just here to absorb this information and hopefully apply it in your training. 

That was also a plausible reasoning- the training of ‘Troopers would be addressed today. If there was a method that could also be applied to _your_ training, it would certainly be of use. 

Torosian flicked through his presentation; his portion was on the ‘troopers suits, about their effectiveness against various blasterfire and environmental hazards. You tried your best to pay attention, even as Torosian discussed the technicals of materials and methods in armor-making. “Really, I must say, the Order’s masks aren’t just sleeker and prettier, but they really do have better filtration and comm systems than the old Imperial designs.” 

Phasma was next, discussing the Reconditioning center and program. “The first stage of reconditioning is chemically-induced obedience. The personnel in question is given a dose of phynatol…” The captain’s clipped accent added a melodic sense to the speech- more information you did not need. Being an apprentice Knight already excluded you from the controlling procedures used in the Order- and you were at least fairly certain Kylo would not have allowed it even if you weren’t exempted. "...with its lack of efficiency it is becoming more cost-effective to remove the first stage."

A more open discussion followed, about the effectiveness of reconditioning versus the cost of simply replacing the ‘Trooper or completely wiping their memories of disobedience. You let your mind wander, dropping in and out of the meeting at hand. In the room directly below this one- some sort of tech command room- personnel buzzed about their shifts. Monitoring feeds and transferring data- silently waiting for the chrono to display the end of Aurek shift. The officer in command was standing stiffly, parsing through a readout on his datapad. 

It was different, feeling someone’s emotions versus hearing their thoughts. One was instinctual- something everyone gave off. People who weren’t Force-Sensitive could learn to read microexpressions, to pick up on that subtle shifting of chemical responses in the brain. But actually reading someone’s thoughts was difficult. You had to sort of, push at their mind. As though reaching through water towards something below the surface. That was what Kylo did in his tests of endurance; it was how he had found you. 

The sensory exchange that had happened a few times between you and Kylo (always started by Kylo, and nearly exclusively while fucking) was something else entirely. You hadn’t even tried to mimic that, unsure how to even access that part of someone’s mind- something so highly ingrained to their current physical existence. You wouldn’t mind learning, though. Eventually. 

You had just begun to press at the officer’s mind when you began to feel it. It started on your thigh, like your robes shifting, a soft pressure that trailed up from knee to hip- just barely there sending little tingles up your spine. You withdrew from the officer, your mind latching back onto Kylo’s. A mischievous glint in his mind’s eye, his own arousal very well controlled under his sudden impulsive decision to stroke at your thigh with the Force.

 _If you want to be distracted so badly,_ He spoke, the invisible hand stroking along the other thigh, down to your knee again. _The least you can do is be distracted by me._

You grabbed at your own thigh, clutching at the cloth- half expecting to feel a physical manifestation of his hand at your leg. You wanted to glare at that damn mask- his head turned towards Phasma at the front of the room, but you could feel his eyes on you through the visor. But you couldn’t. Glaring at someone would draw other people’s attention. _We’re in a meeting, Kylo! Hux is right there,_

Insufferably smug: _So don’t get caught._ The Force-hands slid up to your hips again, tracing along the crease between your thighs and abdomen. You swallowed thickly, returned your gaze to the front of the room, made no noise as one hand cupped your sex.

It stayed there for a moment, just pressing against you- you wondered if he could feel the warmth of your skin or how slick you were becoming at his incredibly indecent actions. The hand rocked, sliding smoothly over your labia- the gentle motion bringing only a touch of friction against your clit. 

Another extension of the force- not shaped like anything, pushing you back against the chair, pulling your knees apart under the table. Your gaze shifted to him for only a moment. You knew full well he didn’t need _access_ if he was using the Force like this- there was no physical barrier his mind could not pass through to reach something. It was just another show of power to him- to hold you how he wanted, to know that beneath the table your legs were spread and waiting for him to touch you.

The hands slid back up your body, ghosting over your stomach and sides, coming up to cup your breasts. You glanced downwards a moment, checking how visible the extension of his mind was under your robes. The answer was, of course, not at all. Between the thick layers of cloth and the non-corporeal nature of the hand that was sliding over your skin, no one would be able to tell. Even you could barely half-see the limb, the odd not-glowing of a hand shape around your chest, thumbs raising to roll at your nipples. 

There was the slightest trail that slid off the wrist of the hands, a phantom string that slid under the table towards Kylo. You wondered if his hands were guiding his action- his own thumbs sliding back and forth in the air just as the Force-hands on your skin were doing so to your nipples. His mask shifted towards you- your body jerked but you made no sound as he tugged on one nipple. 

Hux’s eyes flicked to your body at the movement, but he made no comment- nor any suspicious thought as to why. Kylo was pleased, you could feel it. He soothed the ache of your abused nipple with- okay. That definitely felt warm, and- wet. Soft, slightly texture- a Force-tongue lapping at your skin. It was the new sensation- not just the pressure, but now heat and wetness and the slightly bumpy texture making it feel almost real. 

The hands slid down again, sliding over the top hem of your undersuit’s leggings, then sliding lower. The equivalent to one fingertip sliding between your labia, directly over your clit, down to circle at your wet entrance. Your hips jerked at the sensation, your mouth pursed into a hard line. Heat flooded your cheeks, burning with arousal. 

_What will they think, my little apprentice?_ Kylo whispered into the back of your mind, _Why would you be blushing in such a mundane meeting, hmm?_ The single finger slipped inside you, your cunt achingly clenching around nothing- the first wonderful sense of being filled radiated outwards, nearly making you sigh.

It slipped back out, sliding up to circle at your clit teasingly light. Metal clicked beside you- Phasma sat back down, her helmet turned to glance at the tawdry group of commanders at this end of the table. Her gaze lingered on you- your mind too frayed between physical sensation and the desperation not to show any of it on your face- too frayed to check her mind, see if she knows. You try for a smile or nod or something that would be socially appropriate, you don’t really know if you succeed.

Someone else has taken to the front of the room, a man with soft brown hair and bright eyes marked with mischievousness. He’s talking about weapons, the standard blasters given to ‘Troopers and the various specialized weapons given to the equally specialized Troopers. You only knew this from the various diagrams he’s displaying on the holo, the cut-away views of a blaster sniper rifle. 

Your sank your teeth into your lip, focus on breathing through your nose- calm and collected in the face of Kylo’s game. You should’ve known that wouldn’t work- would only sound like a challenge across your bond. He helped you, this time. Seemingly equally unpleased as the idea of actually getting caught. A hand constricted around your throat, forced your vocal chords to still-- 

A raw, unshaped tendril of the force slid into you. Thicker than the two fingers Kylo had used on Carline, near painfully wide, stretching your body and filling it with _nothing_. Your jaw twitched, ached to cry out- but his gentle control over voice allowed no such noise. Your eyes shot to his mask again- he was watching you; of course he was. You laid your hands on the armrests of the chair, sunk your nails into the synth cloth. 

It writhed inside you- twisting and moving how no cock could ever hope to move, jutting and rubbing against every inch of your pussy. The finger that had been circling your clit drew away, the set of hands returning to massage at your breasts- a third hand remaining around your throat even as his control of your vocal chords ceased. It only had to press so lightly against your arteries to spark a response in you- the innately sexual act of squeezing the _sides_ of one’s throat. The tongue-like apparition reclaimed your clit, lapping at the sensitive nerves, sucking it between a pair of painfully familiar plush lips. 

The liquid heat of your orgasm was gradually building and yet you wondered, briefly, if he was moving his tongue along the inside of his mask- knowing exactly how he was touching you. You released your vice grip on one armrest, your hand sliding to your clothed sex- once again stealing a glance down at the shimmering non-corporeal traces of Kylo’s mind. You shuddered, bit your lip harder- his mind alone. Your hand traced over the leggings of your suit- down over your entrance, probing gently.

You could feel it, like this. You could feel that you were being held open, could feel the empty hole of your cunt- leaking obscenely through your clothing. You couldn’t tell if it was better or worse that another, a fourth hand conjured itself, threading its fingers with yours under the table. You squeezed into its grip harshly, eyes flicking back to the blank mask he wore. Arousal and amusement sliding off him in equal measure.

The tongue worked your clit harder, the tendril inside you rubbing forcefully at the sensitive spot on your front wall. _Kylo, I--_

His mask turned to watch whoever was at the front of the room, but his attention remained wholly focused on you and how your thighs were beginning to shift in your chair. _Beg for it. I know how much you love it._

 _Please, Kylo, let me cum… Please- I, I’ve been waiting...!_ As it was you were struggling to keep quiet, to keep your face relatively impassive beyond the things you could not control. If he planned to tease you as he had in the past, you’d never get out of this meeting with your dignity...

But Kylo knew that as well, and took a small pity: _Call me what you did before._

You swallowed hard, your knees shaking and aching to pull together. _Master, may I please cum…?_

He drew in a shuddering breath, the title still holding power over him. _Yes, do it._

It didn’t take long. You raised your free hand to your face, covering your mouth for a moment- rubbing at your face and temples to try and play it off as a headache or, distraction or literally anything that was not because your eyes were screwed shut, mouth straining to open in a cry but being held shut by one of your Force powers, you couldn’t even tell whose. Your thighs twitched in the chair, rutting up against the tongue and tendril alike, letting them each draw your orgasm out as long as possible. 

Each of the extensions of Kylo’s mind drew away- except for the one that held your hand. Your legs slid back into place, closed so your thighs ground against your over-sensitive clit. Surely your face was as red as a Kunji fruit now- but a preliminary glance around the room showed that no one was staring at you, no one was sweating or looking pointedly away.

No one knew.

 _No, Phasma figured it out immediately._ Your eyes snapped up to Kylo’s mask, sliding sideways to glance as the reflective coverings of the Captain’s armor. His voice continued, lilting and nonchalant about the whole affair. _She’s very attentive, but more importantly she is well-acquainted with women in pleasure._

You glanced around the room again, suddenly unsure about your initial judgement. _And… the others?_

 _When they glanced at you I… persuaded them to look away. To resume thinking of 'Troopers and their psych reports._ He looks to you again then, judging you as if his eyes could observe something his mind- directly linked to yours- could not. _Hux didn’t even notice you were acting strangely._

You looked towards Hux-- his green eyes flashed to yours, raising one eyebrow in question. You reached into his mind, gently: _If they dare make any sort of proposition after this kriffing meeting I’ll strangle them both._ His eyes returned to the speaker. Your gaze followed suit, watching a woman animatedly speak about the changes in psytech evaluations from one group of Stormtroopers to the next. 

 

 

As soon as the meeting is over, Kylo grabs your forearm and drags you, bodily, away from the conference room. Three hallways away he pushes you into an unused Sim training room, throws you against the wall, and sinks his cock into your body, whispering- half aloud and half into your mind about how well you did, how perfectly you took that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my [Tumblr. ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/)


	26. Frustration [Explicit][Prostate Stimulation]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo has a rough day, so you help him relieve some stress with a massage and two fingers in his ass~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Contains:** Such romantic ideals as massages, blowjobs and handjobs, prostate stimulation, and fantasizing about murdering Hux. Also, first-time anal fingering, some praise kink, some crying, cum eating + sharing, Kylo Accidentally Breaking Shit When he Cums, and Kylo still just Doesn't Get It (but he's starting to).

You felt him from across the ship- the burning rage that threatened to spill over at the first inconvenience. He’d instructed you to continue meditating while he went to… acquire resources. A fellow Knight had relayed a piece of information they had gathered- an old Jedi sympathizer that had known Skywalker may have been hiding out at an abandoned Resistance base- far into the Outter Rim on some remote planet of _Dantooine_.

The _Finalizer_ was the closest First Order ship, but even then it would take nearly a full day’s travel in hyperspace. Kylo had gone to secure the change in plans, to redirect the massive ship and acquire a platoon of ‘troopers for the surface mission and ready his own shuttle. With the possibility of finally discovering something he had been trying to find for so long, Kylo refused to allow success hang on the necks of nameless tools to the Order. 

And that, of course, meant filing the changes with Hux. And that lead to the flurry of anger that spread out from Kylo like a mist- his rage thrumming red hot in your mind’s connection, but also stretching out quietly through the ship, as though the undirected emotion itself could suffocate those who got in his way. 

He returned directly to your quarters, not bothering to slice a path of destruction with his saber this time. From the bedroom you could hear him breathing heavily through his mask somewhere in the sitting room. You wondered if he had changed his mind about the lightsaber destruction but- instead- metal banged heavily against the wall, possibly denting it, then banged again as his helmet hit the floor. He stomped into your bedroom.

You sat at the foot of the bed, hands in your lap from the previous bit of meditation. Nothing important had appeared to you this session, but at least you seemed to balance out the mix of emotions between your and Kylo’s minds. You, remarkably calm and controlled post-meditative haze, and him, trembling with unspent anger.

He stared at you for a moment, standing in the doorway with his fists clenching and unclenching. He wanted to meditate with you as he had planned to do today, but even attempting that now yield nothing but further frustration; his emotions were too wild and saturated to be willed into submission just yet. 

Instead of joining you on the floor, he crossed the room and laid face-down on the bed. Rather than redirect it into mindfully traversing the Force, he allowed his rage to slide off him in waves- move through the room in time with his breathing. He’d just wait it out, let it fade away. He hadn’t gotten _violently_ angry near you since he’d choked you, and would really prefer it stay that way. A peal of self-hatred from that thought flitted towards you, the idea that he couldn’t control himself- that he could hurt you. 

You stood then, and looked at his form- large and awkward-looking for how he laid diagonally across the bed, face-down, his robes spread around him- his cowl half covering his dark hair, one arm curled around his head. He didn’t exactly look comfortable.

You half bent over, working at the clasps to one boot from behind. An inquisitive grunt was muffled by the sheets to your bed, but ultimately Kylo lifted the leg slightly so you could undo the straps and slide the synthleather off his foot. You began unstrapping the other boot, “What happened?”

He grumbled again, turning his face just enough to speak clearly, “ _Hux."_

This was the expected reason, of course. Even if mildly understated-- Hux's existence alone didn't normally inspire such spite in Kylo. With both boots removed you moved up his body, perching on the backs of his thighs and wrestling his belt to slide around his body and unclip its massive buckle to drop it to the floor. “Yes, I figured that. What did he do?” 

You tugged at his outer robe, prompting him to cooperate just enough to work the sleeves off. Kylo sighed heavily through his nose, his teeth grit. “He is blind to the Force, he could never understand how important it is to destroy the Jedi.” The tunic was next, but the binding was only in the front- you pulled at it to get his attention- Kylo’s only response was to raise himself on his elbows just enough for you to slip your hands under him, awkwardly hugging him from behind to grab at the tunic's clasps. “He thinks breaking a Rebel supply chain is more important than matters of the Force.” 

That figures, too. The Force was their main source of conflict; the General rarely felt compelled enough to pursue Kylo's instincts because they were not _tangible_. Even if they mostly turned out to be right, and waiting for something physical just wasted time. The tunic, too, joined the growing pile of clothing beside your bed. With only the padded, ridged underarmor left, you grabbed at the bottom hem and pushed the cloth up, letting it bunch around Kylo’s shoulders as your fingers skimmed the warm, dotted skin of his back. “He cannot stop me from following this, but he was unwilling to consign the use of _his_ ‘Troopers. And is more than happy to complain about changing course. He resists any lead I give him.” You kneaded into the flesh of his back, felt how tense the muscles there were coiled- how his chest expanded as he inhaled. You worked your hands up and down, working as much of his back as you could reach. “One day he will outlive his usefulness.”

“Mmm, that might take a while.” You replied, rubbing at a knot under his right shoulder blade and letting him release some of that pent-up anger. This happened much too often between the co-commanders; even with the occasional invitation to release their stress with each other. Sooner or later it would, inevitably, boil over into something more acutely violent than the consensual use of a riding crop. “He is quite ambitious. But did you get your troopers?” 

“All the better he’s ambitious, better to see him fail.” Kylo reached back blindly to grab at the under armor rucked about his shoulders, pulling it over his head and off his arms. “Yes, he just had to _complain_ about it for some time. I had to _persuade_ him.” He resettled his face on the sheet while your hands pressed against the revealed skin of his shoulders and neck. “I think I might enjoy killing him.” 

For as serious as he sounded, his voice was too lax, too soft and tired. Your hands moved up to kneaded into the muscles in the back of his neck. You kissed at the nape of his neck and pushed a playful tone to your voice, “Do you plan to kill everyone you sleep with?” 

He didn’t move or speak for a moment. The shadows of muscles shifted as he turned under you- his legs twisting so he’s on his back. Your hands rested on the front of his shoulders as he sat up and cupped his hands around your jaw, pressing your lips in what was nearly a chaste kiss. He pulled away just enough to speak, his lips brushing over yours. “I’ll try not to make a habit of it.”

A joke- or at least, not an entirely serious reaction. Relief for a stress you didn't know you had passed over you, a heavy exhale before you kissed him again- letting your arms loop around his shoulders. It wasn’t hungry or possessive- just as relaxed as the muscles in his back now. He moved as if to flip you- but you drew away, pushing at his shoulders. “Can we-- try something?”

Kylo tilted his head, curious and a little surprised. Perhaps you were even a little surprised at yourself- you had not taken a domineering role like this before. Not that it was exactly domineering- it felt more like a… special type of servitude. You pressed the image to his mind, shyly presenting the quiet idea you had summoned. 

Kylo’s eyes widened, pupils expanding with lust as his cock gave an interested twitch at the idea alone, his emotional response rippling with shock and arousal. His lips tightened for a moment before he could bring himself to speak. “Why?”

You flushed, shrugged, tried to downplay it. “Just- you’re stressed. Thought it would be… nice? For you?” 

“For me?” You shrugged again, ready to suggest you just go back to whatever Kylo had in mind. You turned your face away, focusing intently on the shape of the pillows behind him. But Kylo wouldn’t have that- the hands that had lovingly cupped your jaw brought your gaze back to him. “You. _Want_ to?” 

His eyes were bright, nearly gentle in his quest to read your responses- physical and mental. You nodded softly, “Yeah, I want to.” He stared at you, hesitant, unsure about-- something.

He let you guide him back to lying down, your hands on his shoulders before your lowered yourself with him, tangling your hands into his hair and kissing him again. His lips were warm, slightly chapped as you slid your tongue into his mouth- slow, savoring it. 

You moved away from his mouth, kissing at the hollow under the edge of his jaw- leaving open-mouthed marks down his throat- felt the flutter of his pulse under your tongue. Your hands slid reverentially over the shapes of his shoulders and arms, mapping the curves of his body. You kissed at the center of his clavicles and felt his mind settle warmly in the back of yours. You pressed against him, let your thoughts filter back and forth-- 

He had asked _why_ , perhaps was still asking it- he didn’t understand what you got from this, from finding and tracing a chart of every dark spot on his body as though mapping a new galaxy. This wasn’t an exchange, to mutual need for release- nor was it a repayment, or a display of power. 

You half laughed into his mind, let your lips latch onto one nipple as his breath catches in his throat. _I’ve already told you. I love you._ You drew away, blew onto the pink skin so it hardened in the chill, felt him shudder in response. You moved down, kissing and caressing over his abdomen- let your hands follow your mouth, tracing scars and birthmarks with tongue and fingers. _I want to do this for you._

You nosed at the dark hair above the hem of his pants- kissing along the sharp curves of his hips. You curled your fingers around the dark cloth, tracing any newly revealed skin with your tongue. He shifted his weight onto his elbows, lifting his hips to help you pull his pants off entirely- they, too, were dropped blindly into the growing pile of otherwise intimidating robes. 

His cock was- as expected- beginning to flush, half-hard without being touched at all. He expected you to get right to it- so you did not. Instead you pushed one hand under one of his thighs, hooking so it curved over your shoulder. _I_ want _to make you feel good, Kylo…_ You kissed along the sensitive skin there, let your hands glide across the skin of his hips, sides, and stomach. Your lips trailed all the way to his knee before moving back inside, moving to kiss at the base of his dick- to feel the heat of his skin on your face. _That's what being is love is like, Kylo. Wanting to do good things for someone else._

He sighed for it- for the delicate attentions you payed to his body, for the gentle words whispered into his mind. You licked up the underside, pressed a kiss to the tip before taking the tip in your mouth. He held your gaze for a long moment, watching your mouth descend on his cock, before he gave in. Hey laid his head back on the bed and moaned, eyes falling shut to focus on the sensation of your hot, wet mouth and your tongue dragging just under the crown.

There was something more intimate about this, somehow. Seeing Kylo stretched before you, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, his body pliant under your touch. You reached up and rubbed over one nipple with your palm, felt more than saw the way Kylo’s mouth hung open, panting softly. When the first fat drop of precum slid down your throat, you drew away earning another sigh from those plush lips. 

With a meager portion of your mind, you summoned the lube from the nightstand. You sat up straight and dipped one finger into the gel. Apprehension slid off Kylo’s emotional response, but when you looked to his face he planted his feet firmly on the bed and spread his legs. You drew him a little closer to where you were kneeling, pulled so his thighs were settled onto your knees. 

Your dominant hand curled back around Kylo’s cock, wet with your saliva and a thin trail of precum- you stroked slowly, purposefully along his shaft. The other circled gently at the tight ring of his ass. Kylo gasped, flinched away before settling back. You whispered soft noises to his mind, _Shhh, relax, Kylo..._ He did, slowly. Taking deep breaths and focusing on the gentle pressure around his dick. 

With the liberal amount of lube you’d smeared around him, you slid the first finger in to the first knuckle, again making him gasp and clench around the intrusion. You could feel his muscles rippling around your fingertip, hot and tight. Again, you waited until Kylo had calmed again before sliding in more- only pushing halfway to the second knuckles before drawing back to apply even more lube and returning. 

You pushed in a little faster this time, reveling in the way Kylo squeezed and twitched around you, how his body was torn between wanting more, wanting you deeper- and reacting more instinctively against the intrusion. You left it at one finger, letting him get used to the feeling-- rocking your whole hand against him for a moment. He groaned happily at the sensations, so you moved to actual thrusting- withdrawing your finger and pushing back in slowly, the hand around his cock matching pace- all the while watching his face and responses closely. 

You’ve seen him wrecked from all sorts of stimulation, but this was something new. His mouth was still parted, his tongue peeking out occasionally to wet his lips. One mole-spotted arm was to his side, fist curled tightly in the sheets- the other thrown over his eyes, only halfway revealing one when he dared to look at you. “More,”

You withdrew your fingers, again slicking them before pressing a second finger along with the first. The stretch burns- you can half feel it between your minds- but it’s a sort of fulfilling burn, the kind that’s making his cock drip readily. You rock your hand like that for a moment, smearing the collecting precum with your thumb- his hips already shifting back against you. “Let me see your face, Kylo…”

He whined, his teeth sinking into his lip. “Let me see that gorgeous face, Kylo. I want to see you…” With mild reluctance, he moved the arm from his face- joining its twin to fist into the sheets.

He’s even more pretty like this. His eyes are dark with lust, cheeks stained red- his lip still being mercilessly chewed. You pass your affection to him, watch as his ears turn pink, too. For as beautiful as he is, that’s not the only reason you wanted to see him. You’ve read enough- it should be right around where that sensitive spot is for you, somewhere on that front wall and---

Kylo nearly _screams_ , his hips jerking while his head falls back- moaning some mess of a noise. His response was just a haze of pleasure, of a shock that something could feel so good and weird and he feels so full and stretched on only two fingers. He’s unconsciously gathering the Force around you; a barrier between you and the rest of the galaxy- it buzzes quietly in your mind, a constant noise and recreation of Kylo’s emotional status. His mouth started to drop words without his conscious knowledge-- “Again! More!” You couldn’t help but oblige him.

You stroke over that spot relentlessly- learning quickly that he wants you to press hard, to squeeze his dick tighter. His hips twitched in time with your movements, toes curling while he throws his head back and forth, mouth open and panting and commanding you to keep going, but it sounds more like pleading, like how you sound when he makes you beg for it. On hand raises again- you nearly stop when it threatens to cover his face, but it settles above him to pull at his hair, his dark locks tangled in pale fingers. 

You chant his name, whisper soft praise as he gets close. “Kylo, you look so beautiful like this… You’re so good, Kylo…” He nearly sobs, or, perhaps he did-- there’s tears gathering at his eyes, threatening to spill. You worry for a moment, but his emotional response reads nothing but pleasure; they’re the good sort of tears. The shock of new stimulation and the strange intimacy like this. 

You can feel it when he’s close, half because of your connection, and half by the way he’s twitching in your hand. You prompt him, “Go on, cum for me, Kylo…” and it’s all over. Well. Almost.

First and foremost, his body arches near completely off the bed, all the while you stroke him through it, and he moans so loud _surely_ the EcoSys Center crew had heard it-- but more importantly, the Force barrier is not quite dispelled- instead, it’s thrust out around you, the control of energy being snapped with whatever physical release his orgasm had. Around you, all the furniture is thrown away- something in the ‘fresher smashes. And, suddenly, you’re floating. 

And, nearly to your horror, in zero-g Kylo is cumming, obscene white trails spilling and _floating away from_ his dick. You cup your hand, much more willing to gather his cum rather than have some slip by and stain your ceiling or something equally weird. 

Kylo, to his benefit, is still rather out of it- even as he’s slowly drifting away. You pull him back down- or rather, sort of pull both of you to meet halfway. Kylo kind of realized what had happened then- or, at least was aware that the gravgen had been _mysteriously_ damaged. You nearly laughed, pulling him closer- and pressing the handful of his own cum to his lips. “ _You_ made the mess and _you_ broke the ship. You can clean it up.” 

“Really?” His large hand wraps warmly around your hand and he laid a flat stroke of his tongue over your palm, gathering most of the cum in one lick. “I certainly had _help.”_ He pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours, letting his cum-stained tongue slide over yours. 

An awful idea slides between the two of your minds. “So, how long until they fix it?” 

Kylo turns his head away, closes his eyes- focusing on someone down in Life Support, floating around in alarm, trying to figure out what the hell had happened. You could feel him, following Kylo’s own path to him. Kylo speaks half in a trance, “Two hours, at least. They have to check that other systems aren’t damaged first.” He faces you again, begins to tug at your clothes. “They aren’t. We have time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So we all love when kylo breaks shit with the force when he cums right??? Imagine: he breaks the fucking gravity generator for that section of the Finalizer. Try explaining that repair job to Hux." - my own stupid imagine @ thirst-order-confessions
> 
> “Kylo eating his own cum” - via Anonymous on the survey


	27. Messages [Explicit][Masturbation]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo is on a mission planet-side and is missing you something fierce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long- I'm not real happy with it and I'll probably edit and repost it later, but I'm dying to update this finally. SO!
> 
>  **Contains:** Visions, plot stuffs, mainly from Kylo's perspective, Kylo fantasizing about you, some imaginary somnophilia (ergo, some dubcon), Kylo wankin' it and fingering himself.

It was hot and humid on the planet, the middle of the wet season on Dantooine. His robes were glued to his skin with sweat, his mask becoming increasingly difficult to wear- but he was still overseeing the search. He could not break to personal whims out here. Where people could see. Perhaps that was why he had left you behind. He was someone else when he was with you; he was not the powerful Master of the Knights of Ren who wielded the Force with ease and experience, the iron-willing commander who allowed no excuses. He was- softer. _Lighter_. He could not be that person in front of… others. In front of meager ‘Troopers who rooted through the remains of this base like scavenger birds. Not yet, at least. Only when you were stronger- just as feared as he is.

But to the troopers picking through the remains of what had once been a great Resistance base, Lord Ren’s lack of a shadow was more concerning than the thick air or the forty year old remnants of once-great technology. On the ship his apprentice followed him silently throughout the day, yet he came alone to this desert planet. There were gentle rumors as to why, everyone curious about this strange change in atmosphere. 

The simple fact Kylo was reading that ‘troopers had noticed your absence only made the odd sense of loss more acute. 

The search had been slow, dragging on for two days. The resistance base was well laid out and planned, but most of it was in ruins. It had been in disuse for at least thirty years, all usable consoles had either been stolen or defaced beyond recognition. A room near what looked like the X-wing hangar had been recently lived in; the ground had been disturbed and a loose sense of a pathway had begun to form in the grass.

Inside the hangar bay, Kylo stared to an oil mark on the concrete. It was recent, still wet and shining over the duracrete. It could have come from whatever broken machine this sympathizer was using to travel. It also could have been any other disgusting creature on this world, just trying to avoid the storm season. The hangar was large, easily capable of holding a dozen X-wings- even more to be stored on the long runways outside. It had certainly been an impressive base when it had been operational. 

But it felt too quiet here. Not just with the lack of civilian life-- all the natives stayed in their meager cities and mined for resources to sell on the markets. There was no need to investigate an ancient base to them. The ‘Troopers minds were buzzing with protocols and useless selfish thoughts, none distracting any enough to warrant Kylo’s readjustments. And despite the heat of the atmosphere and the increasing weight of the clouds above, dark with rain, Kylo nearly felt cold. 

It was you. He had expected something to this effect. You were on the _Finalizer_ , kept away from the planet but at least within the system. You were far away, now. Millions of miles away in the cold dead of space. He could still feel the vaguest sense of your presence, knew exactly _where_ you were- if he were to get into his shuttle he could locate the ship by your signature alone.

If he closed his eyes, meditated- _concentrated_ on you he might be able to reach you a little more solidly, maybe tap back into your mind for a moment, if only to catch your emotional response. He couldn’t feel that, at this distance. At least not with any precision. You were… anxious, but that’s all he could feel. Perhaps, sick? It was too quiet; the gentle murmur of your thoughts- not just the vague feelings and impressions off your response in the Force had been a regular part of his day for so long now it felt as though a piece of his armor had been left behind, tied by the invisible string of power that slid through the galaxy between you. Did you feel the same? Was that why you were anxious?

Kylo’s nails bit into his gloves, curling his hands into fists. No. Now wasn’t the time for that, for fighting a battle within himself. He had not found the map yet. He had a task, a mission to complete. He needed to find this sympathizer, to find that damned map and finally finish this. Kylo closed his eyes, concentrated- felt in the past for who had been living here…

 

 

 

The Knights did not, by nature, care how their power was obtained. With Snoke’s guidance Kylo had designed the group to be as individualistic as possible-- to allow each Knight to have their own weapons, armor, to allow them how to obtain their objectives and how to fight. The Knights rarely worked together and a heightened sense of individualism would not hurt. Having a sense of personal desires would help, in most ways. To heighten their connection with the dark or light within themselves. Troopers and officers may be controlled with a simplistic need to conform, but people like the Knights- people with connections to true power- they would never accept that. 

But Kylo hadn’t been raised in a neutral territory- he had not been a blank slate as many Knights had. These Knights could forge their own powers. No, Kylo had been taught to follow the Light- to seek peace and kindness in all things. The training did not, in many ways, take hold within him. But he felt it; he could feel the Light as easily as he could feel the Dark-- either side of the Force so easily accessible. He felt powerful, like this. It did not matter if he hated his enemy or if he forgave them. That no matter what happened both parts of him could fight. And yet- it was torture.

The Force is controlled by its users, and the users are in turn controlled by the Force. To have war and peace pulling at either side of him was not pleasant- it made him impulsive. If he stopped to consider any action the never-ending dissonance in his mind would only echo louder. If he acted before he could give each side a consideration, he wouldn’t have to hear it. 

He had hoped, perhaps, you would ease this in him. The passion he felt for you- the overwhelming need to protect (fiercely, the thought of someone harming you made his blood run hot, his hand twitching for his saber). The burning desire to be near you again- to do so many things to you, with you. Passion was the way of the Dark side- he could channel all these feelings into power and with any mercy at all, the Light would be weakened in him. At least, kept at bay for a while.

But passion in-- _not that_ \-- in relationships, he decided on-- was not quite the same as the need for power or the desire to feel your enemy’s blood. It was strong, yes- and he had certainly tested this. He’d thought of you while training. All the droids in the room had been crushed to scrap.

But it did not work like that forever. When he was not-- not actively thinking of you, or- of the passion he felt for you- it was different. The quiet mornings before the alarm went off, where he could just watch you- the slow cycle of your breathing, your hair messily wrapped around your face. The little touches upon his mind when you were not with him- the little gestures of kindness. Even- he shuddered, his cock aching at the memory-- even the day before he had left. There was something- intimate and generous about it. This was not passion. This was the peace and kindness of the Light. 

Kylo had thought that attachments, that- _love_ had been forbidden to the Jedi because love, in itself, was passion. An enduring, unending passion that fueled all fights. (He had told himself after your own confession that he, therefore, did not love you. He felt softly with you, that was not unending passion. You would not suffer that on his behalf).

But he had touched your mind, he had settled so comfortably in the back of your head as you whispered to him through the Force. Whispered that you loved him, even in the quiet of your mind- in the gentle thoughts you had for him and he had felt that twinge of emotion. It was not passion, nor peace. It was something else entirely that so easily bent all persons in the universe to its whim. Love was simply a catalyst, twisting small events and words to produce monumental effects for the Dark or for the Light. Love could be as gentle as the breeze on Yavin IV, or as all-consuming as the fire rivers on Mustafar. 

It was for this reason- this echo chamber of saturated emotions and needs and desires in Kylo’s head torn between the need to complete this mission and the need to see you immediately- that he could not pursue _either_. Every time the vision began to form- _a small gray ship, a single occupant, a traveler, searching--_ he would feel for you, too easily he'd been into the habit of meditating with you. And, as simple as that, the vision would dissipate and fade into the nothingness of the world and the space between stars.

 

Kylo opened his eyes, found himself still standing in the hangar on Dantooine. Through the massive doorway he could see this system’s star was setting, night was beginning to fall. A quick scan of the ‘Troopers near him confirmed- he’d been standing like this for at least two standard hours. Two hours of the inability to clear his mind and focus. He ached to retrieve his saber- to slash through these walls and flood himself with the raging power of the Dark- just to finish this damn mission. To get back to the ship.

But you had hated that-- you’d always tried to help redirect some of that anger into something more… productive. Kylo swallowed heavily, the warmth in his belly only making the situation worse. He turned abruptly- all the ‘Troopers startling at their commander finally returning to motion. 

A storm was brewing- he could feel it. In the way the wind blew and the little shimmers through the local fauna’s instinctive feedback. A red-shouldered field captain approached. He didn’t have what he needed yet, but staying much longer would keep the entire division grounded. With no hostile forces, the ‘troopers could shuttled- and perhaps Kylo would be able to concentrate on the task at hand. “Return first squadron to the _Finalizer_ , send the second to the nearest settlements. Find anything about travelers. Inform Hux I will be staying here until the storm passes.”

 

 

 

It was like losing a part of yourself. A little space in your mind was gone- only empty, meaningless silence in its wake. It was awful feeling him leave in his shuttle- bad enough that he’d elected to leave you on the ship- but to feel his signature getting weaker and weaker in your perception and to feel horribly drawn to follow him- even if it meant jumping out into the vacuum of space. Soon the emotional strangeness developed into a physical sickness, a sick nausea and pounding headache. You retired to your quarters early.

Sleep eluded you, chased away by a shifting, distance within your own mind. Your only consolation was that he had told the returning squadron hoped to be back by day, tomorrow, planet time. Only a few more standard hours away from him, then whatever the hell this was would go away. From the nightstand you summoned your datapad and signed in.

You had been sorting through various translations- approving the short, simple responses and double-checking some more complicated transmissions when he called. Not as complicated or detailed as a holochannel, but the video messaging system was promising enough. You answered.

The video was fuzzy, uncomfortably stiff- a soft roll of thunder and the white noise of rain falling echoed through the speakers. But even then, you could make out his shape against a plain durasteel background-- the personal quarters on his ship, if you had to guess. His mask was still on, the most highlighted part of the feed was the chromium lines around his visor. The aching buzz in your mind lessened at the sight, the odd feeling of losing him fading. 

“What’s happened.” His vocoder demanded, the mask leaning forward. Somehow- you felt it- the muffled, distant concern echoing through his voice and your connection. You sighed, smiled- basking in the feeling of his presence in your mind. Weak, far- but him. 

You checked your own cam feed- the only light in the room came from the datapad’s screen and you did look pretty awful. Sickly pallor with heavy-lidded eyes that betrayed how you had felt all day.

“Been feeling sick.” You shrugged, continuing to feel gradually better. “Think it was just being away from you.” You could feel that too- that he wasn’t very convinced. It didn’t matter, whatever had made you feel so sickly was passing. “Can I see you?” 

He hesitated, but at length removed his mask. The paleness of the lighting and the fuzziness of the stream made him look even paler, the contrast blown out on the datapad’s small screen. 

“How goes the search?” 

“Slow,” Kylo’s eyes closed, exhaling as he felt around him, “I know who was here. I but I don’t know who…” His brow scrunched, already growing frustrated with this attempt to divine information and the impossibly convoluted nature of visions. “They’ve been- gone for a while. Their trace is weak.” 

You nodded in turn, aware of the vagueness of the Force. “How much longer do you think you’ll spend down there?”

“I don’t know.” He stared at something beyond the cam for a moment, “If I could. Get a _name_... If I could finally find this damn map.” 

“You will.” His eyes met yours through the feed, dark and clouded even beyond the low-quality video. You nipped at your lip, hesitated. “You know… I could come help. With both of us it might-” 

“No.” 

“But I-”

 _”No.”_ He paused, huffed. “This is--. It is imperative that I find it. You would be more of a distraction.” 

A distraction. You flinched but hoped he couldn’t tell that he’d offended you. That your power within the Force wasn’t even worth whatever _distraction_ came with your presence. Not that this was anything new; you hadn’t been allowed to join on any official missions yet- only the rare training voyage. 

Softer, but still oddly authoritative: “Go to sleep, you look tired.” His expression had calmed and from what little you could read from him off his response, he felt tired too.

You nodded. Sleep would do both of you some good. “Alright, good night, Kylo.” The transmission ended and your previous application- an even longer list of to-be-reviewed translations took over your screen once more. Just how the transmissions line had been cut, what little connection you had with Kylo was severed again- the universe tilting on its axis so quickly your hands clasped over your mouth and you closed your eyes. Sleep would be a blessing.

 

 

You were dreaming; in a vision perhaps. It wasn’t hard to tell. Everything was blurry, everything felt too light, too floaty. You remembered your sickness, you remembered aching for unconsciousness to return. And then, suddenly, you were walking through a forest. A tall forest, with fat-leaved trees and thick, green mosses. _The_ forest. But there was no distant sounds of blaster fire and the suffocating feeling of terror and dread was not here. Today, it was just a forest on some distant world. 

“I suppose you really can’t stay away from me.” Not angry or disappointed, just amused. Kylo emerged from elsewhere in the forest- dressed down out of his armor, just in the padded undersuit. Even his saber wasn’t clipped to his belt. What should have incited fear, instead, the sight of him was soothing- his presence pouring back into your mind.

You smiled- warm and genuine- “I didn’t _choose_ to be here, it just happened.” You each moved towards each other- unhurried and serene as the forest around you. But as you reached out to take his hand-- you passed through him. An odd sensation flitted through your hand, shivering and electric, but not physical. You tried again- with the same results. 

“Definitely dreaming.” Kylo confirmed, examining his own hand- experimentally touching the thick trunk of a tree and then his own arm. Both seemed solid to the touch. He looked around into the forest- his emotional response (so close, so saturated now) was driven to explore, seemingly unconcerned with this strange development.

“Should I be worried about this?” You asked, “I mean, is this… normal? You being in my dream?” 

“It’s probably a good sign.” He began to walk in some directly he chose seemingly at random. You followed behind, the ground too soft, almost squishing under your feet. Shifting, sliding- turning into orange-red sand. “I’ve read some. Bonded individuals may share dreams.” The trees grew thinner, receding into nothing- the world becoming pure waves of sand dunes, the only difference on horizon was a single raised plateau in the distance. “You’re getting stronger. I couldn’t enter your dreams without waking you in the past.”

Distance broke in this dream world- each single step moving a near kilometer. The plateau coming closer, the outlines of structures above becoming visible. “We’ll come here, soon. Right?” You asked, shielding your eyes against the overbearing sun. 

“Yes.” He paused, stared at the village- that’s what it was, wasn’t it? A village?-- and turned away. “He’ll be on a desert planet but…” His frustration radiated off him, not just from his response but how he stomped into the sand, willing the scene to change. 

“You know him?” You prompted, jogging to catch up with him. “From where, do you think?”

Kylo shook his head, slowed his pace. ”A long time ago.” He stopped, stared around him as he had in the forest. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back-- had this been a real, existent world perhaps you would worry he would get burned. Instead, Kylo looked even more beautiful like this-- semi-natural sunlight pouring onto his face- highlighting the soft volume of his hair and the gentle color of his skin.

“Show me where you are.” 

He doesn’t open his eyes- just sighs and thinks. The sand dunes level out below you, hardening and solidifying into cracked planes of duracrete. A shaking rumble below the ground and- walls of sheet metal erupt from the earth, pulling together into a large hangar. Off to the side the hangar splits into the indoors of the base. On the right, the remnants of a traveller’s bedding. Just outside the hanger, out on the runway was Kylo’s ship. 

You picked up the information from him directly, unintentionally: he moved the ship after sending the ‘Trooper back. He needed to sleep nearby, but did not want to sleep on the ground itself. 

“So, will meditating in a dream work or would it, I don’t know. Break something?” 

Kylo regarded you for a moment before giving a resigned nod and sitting down on the ground, crossing his legs and settling in.“It should work.” 

You nodded sitting across from him- offered your hands. His hands brushed yours and the circuit of power rushed through you, your combined presence echoing through the Force. You closed your eyes- recited through the same process as how you practiced. You were looking into the past, searching for specific details of thing that have already happened. 

The physical details flowed from his mind into yours; the taste of the air and the musky, earthy scent of freshly agitated soil. The thick tang of engine oil, a new spill stained into the duracrete. The ship- older, small. One-man cruiser, no weapons. Grayed, peeling paint. A man exited- a blurred figure, a smudge on the overly detailed world that fabricated itself around him. This was as far as Kylo had gotten on his own. The impressions of a singular person and the ship he piloted- if it counted as a ship at all.

“I know him,” Kylo repeated, eyes still closed, scrunched in frustration. His mind followed the figure, picking at the edges of the undefined man. Trying to shave away the unknowns- to find something more identifying. Slowly- piece by tiny piece his hand came into view. Old, leathery pale skin, wrinkled with swollen veins. 

Long robes, the view clearing, fading- the figure turning, facing towards you. His arm reaching out into space- towards your bodies, like he could-- see you. He stepped closer, his face clearing, age-bleached hair and old, tired eyes. You could feel him- through the past, the Force-- A traveller, someone searching for something. Looking for proof and a lost sense of belonging. He was hiding something, protecting it- he needed to determine--

Kylo stiffened, his eyes opening- he faced the man, hatred pouring off his response in heavy waves. You reached for him-- his hand waved at you, breaking the circuit, dispelling the dream.

 

 

Kylo woke- the name still ringing in his ears. San Tekka. Kylo had not bothered to pursue him as he had Luke. He wasn’t Force-sensitive, he posed no real threat as the last Jedi did. Just an old man who used to be involved with something bigger than he could ever understand. All it would take now is to find him-- on a desert planet. A plateau with a village on it. 

More pressing- Kylo had woken up. The odd sensation of being so far, so distantly away from your presence. He closed his eyes again- felt for you. Felt you still sleeping on the _Finalizer_ , no longer dreaming. It would be another few hours before the storm passed, but you would sleep through any remaining sickness the distance gave you. Kylo would be back before you woke.

However, there was still something more immediately pressing. Literally pressing, warm and stiff against his thigh. He’d just woken up after dreaming of you- not exactly a shocking reaction, but still. He was too used to your touch and mouth to relieve this ache, it’d been too long since he’d felt his own hand.

He could wait, he knew. He could return to the ship and greet you in a very appropriate manner- he could imagine it. Finding you asleep in his bed, waking you by sliding his cock into you- pull you into consciousness with the hot stretch of being fucked open. An electric spark went down his spine, sliding straight up his cock. He could imagine it so well- could practically see your face as you woke to moans and the sweet friction.

Fuck. Kylo cupped his hand around his cock, felt how warm and stiff he was already. He couldn’t wait until he saw you. He’d just have to treat you in some other way. 

Kylo hooked his thumbs around the hem of his underclothes and shimmied them down around his thighs. He pulled his cock up, stroking the pad of one finger along the heavy vein, tracing along the sensitive ridge around the head until he shivered- his hips aching to buck up and find more sensation. 

He sighed, curved his fingers around the base- slid his hand up just once, twice. He wasted no time, licking his hand and working his spit over his palm. His strokes were smoother now, just a touch of wetness as he pulled at the sensitive skin- not quite proving enough to satiate the growing ache in his belly. 

He shoved at his underclothes again, pushing the cloth down his legs and letting his legs part. Still working his length with one hand, he left the other trail over his thighs- over the warm curve of his balls and down- trailing over the sensitive skin below and. Kylo shuddered, shifted his shoulders- bringing the other hand up and sucking greedily on two fingers. 

His legs shifted further, one falling off the edge of his bed while he slid the spit slicked finger over his ass. It was all too easy to imagine it was you-- you were the one to introduce him to this, to imagine it was your finger- more slender than his own prodding and sliding into his ass. It felt nice, the heavy weight of his cock in one hand, the tight heat of himself clenching around one finger, the odd sensation of being _full_ , taught around himself. 

He could imagine how tight _your_ ass was-- he squeezed his fist around his cock, imagined how nice it would feel. He slid his finger in deeper, enjoying the friction. There had been such a nice place- he’d known about it in theory, but it had felt like nothing else when you had stroked it. And-

 _”Fuck,”_ Kylo’s head tilted back, eyes closing- mouth hanging open in an obscene moan, whining and huffing as he found just the right spot. His thighs twitched, fucking himself down onto his fingers and back up into his own hand. He opened his eyes- made himself watch, one hand fisted around his cock, pumping rhythmically while the other vanished between his legs. 

He could feel it- the growing tightness in his balls, the way his ass clenched against his fingers- his teeth dug into his lip and thought of you- of how gorgeous you were when you rode his cock, how you shook and gasped and- stars, how nice it felt to be inside you and- 

Kylo gasped- his datapad flinging off the shelf and into the wall- his ass becoming a vice around his fingers, his cock throbbing and spilling his cum in hot spurts- his entire core shaking. His hands kept stroking as the last tremors of his orgasm subsided, pulling into the edge of overstimulation before finally withdrawing and letting his arms flop limply. He turned into his pillow, pressed his face into the hot, sweat-soaked fabric and breathed in- imagining he could feel you beside him. 

He’d be back on the ship before the planetary day was over- only a few standard hours away. He’d finally be able to touch you again. But first- there was something he intended to buy.


	28. Plurality [Explicit][Overstimulation]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo returns from his mission with a special surprise for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Contains:** Multiple Orgasms, somnophilia (ergo some dubcon), Overstimulation play, Inappropriate use of the Force, Reunion Sex, Beard burns, Oral, Fingering, more uses of the L-word.
> 
> sorry. I'll edit this later, forgive me for any errors, I wanted to get this out before my birthday <3

Consciousness came back slowly, warm and waving. The nausea you had felt was long gone- replaced by the comforting presence in your mind. He was near- you opened your eyes, blinked to clear away the sleep. You felt it, before you saw him- the warm tendrils of dark powers that slid over your skin- just barely sliding over your clit, drawing a moan from your lips.

He stood in the doorway, tall and still wrapped in his dark robes. His pale face was lined with dark hair, a few days worth of stubble. His eyes were tired, his response reading a quiet, pleasant ring of being home again. 

You smiled, wanted to reach out to him- pull him into bed and not let go for several hours-- but you couldn’t move your arms. Kylo’s arm was raised, hand waving slowly in the air as long tendrils of power slid off him. 

Warm, tingling hands smoothed over your chest, down your belly. Kylo’s hand turned, curved and the Force-hand mirrored the motion, curving over your sex- rubbing warmly over the neglected skin. Two unreal fingers slid over your clit, more specific and heavy than before-- the sensation widening to rub the Force-fingers on each side- slow, purposeful. Continuous and intent.

You shuddered, felt the chains around your arms fade away- Kylo finally approaching, his casual Force-touch along your clit not fading in the least. 

“Good morning,” You slurred, reaching for him as he sat on the edge of the bed. You touched his jaw, traced over the prickly hairs. Kylo hummed, leaning over and pressing his lips to yours in a chaste, simple kiss. His stubble scraped over your mouth and chin, tickling and itching as you spoke, “You look good with some scruff.”

He nodded, his hands cupping your face and moving down over your neck, stroking happily over your skin. His Force-touch faded away, leaving you with a gentle, lingering ache. “I. Got something for you.” Kylo’s teeth sunk into his plush, pink lip, the pads of his fingers sliding along the curve of your throat, the strong tendons of your neck. “You don’t. Have to wear it.”

You sat up more, leaning on your elbows as he avoided your gaze. “Kylo?” 

Hesitantly, he reached into a pocket in his robes. He withdrew something dark, thin- rubbing his hand over it before finally offering the gift. A long, inch-wide strip of dark fabric hung over his knuckles. You took it, ran your fingers over the thick material- synthleather?

“No, real leather.” Kylo corrected. You nodded, examined the ends- it was fashioned like a short, narrow belt. One end topped with a chromium clasp, the other notched so that the leather looped together. The clasp was sturdy, well made, a solid square of metal. You stared at it for a moment- 

“Oh,” You flushed, gasped. “Is, is this…?”

Kylo bit at his lip again, nodded. “I thought- you might want it.” 

You turned it over in your hands- _a collar_. “I- “ You swallowed, a new wave of desire passing through you. “Yes, I love it.” You grinned up to him and- offered the collar back. 

Kylo stared, his gazing shifting between the collar and you. You grinned, sly and eager to get his touch back on you- “I thought you would want to put it on me?” 

Kylo’s pupils widened immediately as he took a shaking inhale. He nodded once- short, sharp- and took the collar from you with almost shaking hands. He passed the leather behind your neck, adjusted it and clasped it closed-- it was a little loose around your neck, but was still close enough, thick enough to ensure it held the correct look. 

“We could- engrave it.” He whispered, dark and hushed- his gloved fingers trailing along the edge of the leather, “Would you like that?” 

You shuddered. “Yes.”

“Could- be my saber. Just like--” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing delicately. He traced the design over the cool metal clasp, a long vertical line- two, short, crossguards… He could mark you as his. _His_ , personally. Not just one of his Knights as your armor marked you as- nor his apprentice. Just, simply, _his_. 

_Yes,_ you whispered to his mind. You grabbed his face, palms scratched by that short, rough stubble. Kissed him, felt his beautiful, plush lips. 

“I missed you,” His lips danced across yours, desperate and heavy as he moved away from your mouth- below your jaw and back up, worrying your earlobe with his teeth. “I want to keep you here-- for _hours_.” 

“Yes, Kylo-” You moaned, tilted your head up, let him bite into the tender flesh of your neck, above the collar. His hands moved restlessly over your sides, your stomach, your chest. His teeth scraped, his mind buzzing with a million things he wanted- none of which you could concentrate on. You’d missed in for days and now he was back and now he was _here_.

Kylo growled- a rumble deep in his chest as he pulled away, leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed violently at the storage below. You watched, half-stunned as he retrieved a length of black rope- the climbing rope that had previously bound Kylo’s wrists and ankles. He wasted no time- grabbed your wrists and pulling them high. He tied them quickly, messily, and tied them to the headboard- your arms stretched long over your head. 

His hands followed the line of your body from your wrists down- stroking over your forearms, over your shoulders and sides, brushing just under your breasts, and down further. He pushed the blankets off your body, the chill making you shiver- gooseflesh erupting over your thighs. His warm hands followed, large and covering so much skin with his rough palms.

He grabbed at your pants, unclothes- yanked them down your legs, ran those large hands back up your thighs, spreading your legs so easily. He leaned over- kissed at your stomach, the stubble making you squirm. He moved higher, pushing your sleep shirt up as he went- over your navel, higher between your breasts and up your neck, shivering at the burn of his whiskers. 

He settled himself so easily between your legs, let his body cover you in warmth. His hands held your hips- thumbs moving in slow, soothing circles. His mouth moved higher, back to your jaw, below your ear. “You remember what to say, for me to stop?”

You closed your eyes, grinned, “Yes, Kylo.” Of course this was his coming home present. How could it be anything else than something requiring a _safeword?_

Kylo hummed against your neck, laid more kisses- open-mouthed, wet, nips while his stubbled face continued to scrape pleasantly over your neck. And then- you sighed- the Force, a thin, soft extension of Kylo’s presence, rubbing over your clit once more. A slow, vertical stroke, top to bottom- directly over the hood, pressing just a little harder at the end of each stroke.

You shivered at the sensation, the heavy press of his gloved hands and the continuous press of his lips to your neck. Leaving new bites and marks over the old, faded remnants- sliding his tongue along the leather collar, leaving a wet trail in its wake. His emotional response was oppressive- wholly focused on you and the slow build of pleasure. 

It didn’t take much; Kylo had been gone for a few days and in the nauseous wake of his absence you hadn’t been anywhere near in the mood enough to please yourself. Even just this single touch of power over your clit, steady and smooth was making your hips rock up, to ache for a more physical contact. 

You moaned, softly, “Kylo-” Your hips shifting, lifting, begging for more attention. You bit your lip, bucked up against Kylo’s clothed body, already riding too close to that edge. “Kylo, please, I--” You needed more- 

“Shh, go on.” The Force-touch didn’t increase, just continued on in its rhythmic press on your clit. You huffed, your hips fighting up against his grasp- and, shuddered- gasped. A gentle, twitching orgasm shooting down your spine, your toes curling.

It faded all too soon. So much for a safeword- you nearly laughed. You pulled idly at your wrists, trying to get Kylo’s attention to untie you. Instead- he looked up at you, through those dark lashes. A mischievous glint off his eyes and his response. 

He moved down your body again, still pliant and shivering with soft aftershocks. He kissed down your stomach, leaving a new trail of bearded scratches. He kissed at your thighs, nipped and left new, pink marks. 

His thumb stroked over your clit- you jerked in your restraints, almost pulled away from him before his other hand grabbed you, held you in place. You were tender, still sensitive from the previous orgasm. You gasped, writhed in his hands, the touch almost too real after the soft slide of the Force. Like this, you could feel the seam of Kylo’s glove, feel how the rippled threads caught, pulled up on the hood to your clit- stroked more directly. 

It was still _good_ , even if his touch was making you squirm, the lightest edge of soreness eking into your mind. But still- you were sensitive. Kylo’s whiskers scraped over your thighs, pressing more kisses into the tender flesh while his clit worked just as rhythmically- powerfully-- switching to a horizontal stroke, just over the head of your clit--

You yelped, body jerked as another hot wave of pleasure washed through you- sharper, harsher than the previous. Kylo removed his thumb immediately and you clit throbbed in response- stiff and aching. Your thighs twitched, shaking under Kylo’s hands as he watched you, your pleasure and discomfort alike. 

He seemed to pause, to give you a moment while he watched you- observed the way your breathing slowed again, the way your hands shifted in their binds. He pressed another kiss to your thigh, chaste and gentle. He closed his eyes, let his mind mingle with yours.

 _I want to wring every ounce of pleasure out of you…_

You shivered, bucked your hips involuntarily. That was all the invitation he needed. Kylo shifted your legs apart further, slipped two gloves fingers inside you so easily. Two orgasms left you achingly empty- and still the sudden fullness made your shake and clench around him. He wasted no time- rocking his fingers into you, curling them upwards and stroking at the sensitive spot inside you- the place he hadn’t quite worn out yet. 

Kylo was careful to give your clit a break, leaving it all to the two fingers inside you and the soft kisses he laid around your thighs, hips, and belly. He stroked, pulled at this sensitive patch of flesh- massaged it gently and insistently, milking it for any subtle pleasure it could offer. 

Normally- it helped, added a pleasant feeling to the hot spot of your clit-- but now, your body buzzing with energy spent and residual-- your hips canted, shifted. An odd, different feeling approaching heavily. Still warm and pressing, but diffuse- slow. You curled your hands into fists, let your fingernails bite into your palms. 

“I know you can cum like this,” Kylo whispered, his lips and stubble scraping at your skin. “I can feel it,” 

You squirmed, threw your head to the side- writhed, ineffectively fucking yourself on his fingers. You gasped, panted- closed your eyes tight and focused hard on the feeling- the seams of his gloves, the slick noise of synthleather sliding inside you. 

Your head tipped down- and, with a shocked inhale another orgasm slashed through you- overwhelmed tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. You choked out a breath, your body bowing-- Kylo’s fingers not pausing, working you through it and your hips couldn’t decide if they wanted more or less. 

This time, Kylo gave you no rest. His fingers kept pulling, stroking- _harder, faster-_ and then, his lips wrapped around your sore clit, his soft tongue sliding over your clit- the rough stubble prickling at your labia, scraping and leaving a delicious burn. Too much- too much sensation, too much pleasure-- pain lancing through your body. You whined, “Kylo- _stop_ \--” 

Your body squirming, pulling away from him as much as you could. But Kylo’s free hand held you close, his tongue working over your stiff, aching clit- his fingers fucking you more aggressively-- and it was just too soon, too much, the aftershocks of one orgasm flooded into the next. 

Your clit ached, but under all of that there was just the softest haze of pleasure- a loose gain for the ache the rest of your sex felt. You sobbed, shook under him as _another_ orgasm stole your breath. 

He withdrew his fingers, used both hands to wrangle your legs into submission- to hold you open while his mouth slid down- his long, soft tongue sliding into you- tasting all the cum he’d wrung from you so far. You shivered- jerked your arms in the rope- “Kylo- it’s _too much_ \- I--” You bit your lip, closed your eyes as his long nose brushed over your clit. 

Real tears slid down your cheeks, your body so overwrought with pleasure and unable to do anything in response. For a moment- there was a hesitant notion in Kylo’s emotional response- but you bit your nails into your palm, sobbed, and nodded freely. 

And he buried his face in your cunt, aching and twitching under his tongue and mouth. The stubble scraping over your body- burning, a pink rash developing along your labia, your inner thighs. The pain and pleasure blurred awfully, a hazy, numbing mix of sensation that lured you closer to another orgasm-

Your breath shook with reckless sobs, grinding against Kylo’s face and tongue, the mindless need to cum- one more time driving your forward, ignoring the ache and sensitivity that pushed tears from your eyes. Kylo’s tongue- so long, and soft, and pink- slid inside you again, writhing and stroking you from the inside out- his nose brushing you over clit just right-

And with a sob, a real, broken, pained sob you shook. Your legs spasming around his head- and finally, _finally_ , Kylo relented. He drew away- through tear-blurred eyes you could see your own cum coating his face, the dark whiskers on his face. You sniffled, gave in to the aftershocks, torn between rubbing your thighs together and allowing the pleasure to take you- and letting your aching clit have any sort of a break. 

You couldn’t even access Kylo’s emotional response; your brain too fried and spent to think beyond the physical signals your nerves fired back to you. 

You could only watch, blankly, at Kylo crawled over you. His eyes so wide and soft, lips parted in awe as he touched your face so gently- held the curve of your jaw. And, carefully, bit the tip of one gloved hand- pulled the leather off and let it drop to your chest. His hand- his real, soft, warm hand tilted your face towards him- he kissed you, soft and slow- and whispered into your mind: _I know you have one more in you._

You sobbed, grit your teeth- and with the hand that fit against your face- he pressed into your mind. Pressed against the raw pleasure center of your brain, working the nerves of your body to _his_ will, to _his_ rules-- he was massaging your clit from _the inside._ Every stray nerve of your cunt, every overworked neuron was sparked to life, shocked with the raw energy of the Force- you gasped, sobbed. It didn’t hurt at all- no sense of oversensitivity- no sense of stiff aches, just pleasure flowing raw and crude from your body.

You jerked, spasmed- the muscles in your arms fighting wildly against Kylo’s ropes- your hands cramping, locked in fists so tight your knuckles hurt- and you _screamed_ , your world fading into a simple black.

 

 

 

 

“Shh,” Your head spun, eyes rolling while you blinked, blindly. “You’re okay.” You stared up at him, all his dark hair and pink lips and bright, worshiping eyes. You’re sideways, your left side flush to his chest with his arms wrapped around you, one hand stroked over your cheek. Your eyes are sore, red and puffy from crying. “I’ve got you, you’re okay.” 

Your wrists hurt- you touched them carefully, felt the raw rope burns there. “Kylo?” You sniffed, watching distantly as he nodded, gave a weak half-smile back. You laid your head against Kylo’s chest. “I love you,” You sniffed, rubbed at your sore, aching eyes. “I love you so much, Kylo…” 

And, somehow, you managed to find the last residual well of tears inside you. And you began to sob again, burying your face against Kylo’s robes while he held you close, whispered praises into your hair and stroked your back, your face, kissed your forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** As implied, Reader and Kylo have set up a safeword beforehand- I do not specify it here just because, I kind of see it as a very personal thing? I personally prefer the color system ("red" being stop, "yellow" being good but no more, "green" being good)-- but I did not want to use "red" as Reader's safeword in case you all have or prefer your own. So, anyway- even though Reader says "no", she has not safeworded and Kylo takes very good care to read if Reader is still capable/willing to continue.
> 
> You may have also noticed-- this fic will now be ending with Chapter 35. I'll reveal more details as we near the end, but fear not! This is not the end of Reader and Kylo's story- only this portion of their lives.
> 
> Based off these requests/imagines/etc:
> 
> "okay so in a D/s setting kylo makes the reader come again and again and again until they cry and beg him to stop and even then he doesn't stop because he wants to wring every ounce of possible pleasure from their body. I'm talking like orgasms upon orgasms. this is all consensual and the reader has a safeword but doesn't use it bc they want this. not so much edging but overstimulation to the point of pain but the reader needs it. bonus points if reader passes out" via _Anonymous_ on Tumblr; [ Here ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/post/141995495059/okay-so-in-a-ds-setting-kylo-makes-the-reader)
> 
> "I really want to sit on kylo rens face. Like i reallllly need to ride his face. (And his dick??!!) I need just-got-back-from-a-weeklong-mission stubble burn on my thighs. @ god why isnt he fucking me right now. Why cant i find fics of everything i've just described? Pls explain." from Thirst Order Confessions; [Here](http://korpuskat.co.vu/post/142266097684/i-really-want-to-sit-on-kylo-rens-face-like-i)
> 
> and lastly: [ this set of headcanons](http://thirst-order-confessions.tumblr.com/post/144373031499/gender-neutral-reader-is-that-okay-hc-that) on Thirst Order Confessions.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> As always, [My Tumblr](korpuskat.co.vu).


	29. Honesty [Teen][Technician]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo goes on another mission, this one a little more personal.

“Do you. Come here often?” He asked. Flat, forced. Laced with a gentle influence. A blank stare with dark, reserved eyes. He’s pulling at your mind- trying to be gentle. You pretend you don’t notice as it seems he hasn’t realize you can feel it- that you could repel it for how soft he’s being. He's softly trying to persuade you to believe his display. You stare back at him, your brow pinching for a moment. 

You read his response, a brief, fleeting response from his blocked-up mind. A sense of caution, anxiety. Fear. Most of all: he thought you had bought it. That you honestly did not know. So you shook your head, blinked and thought to play along. “No. My Master-- _Lord Ren_ \-- is out on a mission.” 

An uneven smile graced his pink lips, he canted his head- bashful. His wig slid, revealing another long, dark, lock of hair. 

 

 

 

“I’ll be back. Some time.” He had told you just yesterday.

Was it petty? Was this rude and controlling? You couldn’t tell-- “Kylo, you just got _back_.” 

He shuffled around the room, seeming to be unsure if he should pack- if he could just take his shuttle. He was being vague, worse still- he was hiding something; he was keeping you out of his head firmly. “And. Now I have to go.”

“Kylo, _no._ The Order is searching for San Tekka, just- you’ve been back less than two days.”

“I have to go.” 

“Then take me with you-- I was so _sick_ being away from you before. I can’t handle it again, Kylo- _please.”_ You grabbed at his sleeve, the padded ruffs to his under suit. Your hands circled his wrist, tried to catch his gaze. "At least tell me where you're going?" 

His emotional response was muted; _guilt. fear._ “I won’t be far. And I should be back soon. I just--” He pursed his lips, swallowed, looked away. “I need to check something. Before we find that map, I need to know.” 

You shook your head, what was going on- why was he guilty? “Know what, Kylo?” What was he afraid of? 

He closed his eyes, shook his head in return. “Nothing.” He looked to you- hesitated, the guilt- of _lying_ flaring through his response. Before you could gasp, “I’ll be back, I promise.” 

 

 

 

 

 _Matt_ had made a nuisance of himself to everyone he came in contact with. Despite somehow verbally convincing (Force-Persuading) everyone he was qualified to be a technician, he had little to no technical skills. He had officially worked no shifts, and his supervisors had, in turns, complained loudly and animatedly- and straightened their backs, stared forward, and repeated the phrase that _”Matt is proficient and dedicated to his work.”_

You, however, had no fucking clue what was going on. Was this some- undercover operation? If so- why did he so desperately not want you to know who he was? Was he- investigating you? Kylo had been nestled into your mind for weeks- he'd had access to every thought you'd had, he could reach through your memories at a whim. If he was- investigating you, why not be upfront about it? You'd never lie to him-- You probably couldn't anyway. He should be able to know if you did.

You rubbed at your face, closed your eyes. Kylo was, of course, blocking you out while he paraded around as _blonde_ , but at least you weren’t getting sick with his absence this time. Still- it was no less lonely not having Kylo constantly around. You'd grown too used to always being in his presence- especially within the Force. 

If Kylo was undercover should you- avoid him? If Kylo Ren suddenly disappeared and someone who also happened to be tall, slender, mysterious, commanding, socially awkward, and had that same long nose reappeared-- would people notice? Was he as obvious to everyone else as he was to you…? Maybe it was just your connection, you reasoned. Of _course_ you knew it was him, he’d only lived in the back of your mind of weeks. Maybe he had some sort of Force-spell, a glamour of sorts around him to everyone else. 

You decided, eventually, to avoid him. He would not be Kylo Ren for some reason- and if you had not been informed as to why, then obviously you were not to be involved. You simply had to allow _Matt_ to accomplish whatever task or mission he had. And perhaps Kylo would tell you what had happened in that missing time.

This plan had been going well, until the service droid that regularly delivered your meals went missing. Kylo did not _enjoy_ others’ company, and he enjoyed even less needing to take his mask off in public-- he abhorred eating in the mess halls. And thus he did what many busy officers did- and had a service droid bring him regularly scheduled meals, possibly manually requested if so desired. 

But Kylo's droid did not respond to summons, nor did it maintain its previous scheduling. Without his regularly scheduled droid, you were eventually forced out of your shared quarters to have to go get food from the mess hall. And right into Matt's presence.

You had wanted to get a plate of food and to head back to your room, perhaps meditate or read- but your old desk mates had seen you. A couple who worked in translations; the woman who excelled in visual languages- who was happy for you when you had returned with copious bruises around your neck. Her response was flooded with concern, relief-- the man's with shock and a simmering level of annoyance. And sitting among this lovely linguistic couple, was the tall, stooping blonde who did his very best to pretend he did not know you.

“I’m surprised you haven’t met Matt yet,” The woman who had worked with you said. You didn’t remember her very well but- a quick touch of her mind revealed her name to be _Kamar_. She had a kind smile and long, dark hair. A soft touch of sincerity off her response, she rested her chin in her hand. “Matt is _very_ interested in Kylo Ren.” 

Your eyes slid back to Matt, his flat gaze still on Kamar. You touched his mind as well- gentle, quiet, trying not to draw his attention-- and he’s irritated. He doesn’t like being here, he doesn't like being talked about, but he feels he needs to be here. He's doing something. He isn’t sure if he should be annoyed with Kamar’s comment. 

“Well, Matt.” You say slowly, drawing his attention back to you. His eyes warmed immediately, large and golden- his response melting. You remind yourself: this is not Kylo Ren. This is a technician you have just met. He- for whatever reasons- wants you to think of him as some incompetent technician. And he thinks you believe him. “Kylo Ren is a very private person.” 

He nods once, his blonde curls bouncing. He didn’t eat, just shifted the food on his plate around. He stared at you, mainly, only answering others’ comments if they were specifically directed to him. 

“Private or not, you have to tell us.” The man- David, you remembered- said. You frowned, catch the train of thought in his mind before it leaves his mouth. “About the rumors?” Matt’s irritation spikes, and yet- he’s anxious. You steal a glance back to him; you can read it off his face as easily as off his response- he wants to know your answer to this question, too. 

You swallow a bite of a pale pasta, turn the possibilities over in your mind. “What rumors?”

“We haven’t seen you in, well, quite a while." David smiled, shrugged. Jokingly downplaying it- you've been low-key missing for weeks. "We still get your messages-- proving, of course, that Kamar is still awful with Quarren," Kamar gave a rude sign in Quarren, but smiled in turn. "But you’ve just been _gone_.”

You paused, chose your words carefully. “I’ve been training to become a Knight.” It was true, and vague enough. After all, it was why you had disappeared from your official post. You doubted Kylo wanted to flaunt the details of your relationship- professional or otherwise. Especially not in front of him. 

Kamar smiled, a sly excitement and off-key embarrassment-- “Well, your quarters were given to someone else.” 

You choked, “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” David continued, twirling his fork. “We went to your quarters, to just- you know. Make sure Ren hadn’t killed you or-”

“What would Kylo Ren kill his apprentice?” Matt bit in, his fork clattering on the table as he dropped it. The hand that had rested on the table was curled into a fist, white knuckled and shaking with tension. 

“He has a bit of a temper.” David grumbled, poking at something on his plate. “Think he nearly took my head off a few weeks ago,” 

A gentle concern took you. You had thought Kylo’s outbursts had faded away- you hadn’t felt so severe a spike in Kylo’s anger in weeks. He was still- irritable. That was simply part of him, but he hadn’t been worked into a rage in so long. Worse still, you hadn’t felt it- if David was accurate to Kylo’s anger. 

You reigned your voice into something respectable: “Why was he upset?” 

David shrugged, pursed his lips. “I made some comment about being annoyed you were gone. More work for the rest of us, you know?” He shook his head, took a bite of the pasta. “Really pissed him off, I guess.” 

You huffed, tried for a consoling smile, nodded. Of course- it been about you. “Sorry. Kylo can be very possessive.” 

“Because you’re sleeping together?” Kamar asked- innocently, kind. Genuine. Your throat closed up- body jerking awkwardly in shock. You stared at her with wide eyes, your cheeks beginning to flush. Kamar just shrugged amicably. “If you aren’t in your old quarters you have be sleeping somewhere.” 

You blushed, looked to your own plate of food- poked at it with your fork. “We- haven’t exactly been _hiding_ it.” You thought of the day you held his hand at the bridge, smiled. It had been such a damning act for him- perhaps the first time he’d truly shown you that hidden affection he held. You stole a glance at Matt.

Beside him, David’s datapad pinged and buzzed with a notification. He checked it, huffed, stood, and collected his plate- a tired resignation floating off his mind. “Beta shift’s about to start. We gotta head off.” 

Kamar nodded, touching your arm politely. “It was nice seeing you again.” 

And then, you were alone with him. Well, not _alone_ \- in the middle of a crowded mess hall. But suddenly sitting across from the man who you most certainly were not sleeping with, who was definitely not wearing a very bad blonde wig and overly large, black glasses. He- looked very different like this. The same long nose and dozens of little spots across his face- but without his black uniform and silky, ebony hair- he looked. Unimportant. Plain. 

He spoke suddenly: “What’s he like?” 

You looked to him- confused. “What?” Did he mean- David? You hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, you hadn’t even been that close to him while you had been a translator. You hadn’t been around long enough to get close with anyone, really. Kamar, at least, was nice and sociable with everyone.

“What’s he like?” He repeated- paused, staring at you. “Kylo Ren.” 

What. You stared, your mouth working to form any intelligent response. Was this- some code? Were you supposed to understand why he was asking about himself? You shook your head, closed your eyes. “I- I have to go. Sorry.”

 

 

You waited as long as possible before leaving your quarters for the next meal. But- at length- hunger drove you back to the mess hall. You had hoped it had been a fluke, a one in a million chance that you had been hungry at the same time. And yet, impossibly, he waited for you. He sat with his back to you- with some ‘trooper and an officer beside him. The officer slightly tense- a sense of distrust coming from him; the 'trooper blissfully unaware and very irritated at Matt. 

You stepped in line, hoping to get your plate and leave. You’d actually managed to nearly make it back to the door before- a gray and orange flash, topped with a yellow-blonde wig.

“I’m Matt. You should sit with us.” All blonde curls and pleading, dark eyes. He pressed a sense of persuasion against you. Your brow furrowed-- he could be so much more aggressive with it if he truly wanted to control you. He could-- he could make you do anything, if he wanted to. Like this, he was just trying to sway your opinion. If you hadn't known who he was his attempt to sway you may have gone unnoticed- but like this it was so easily sensed, repelled. 

Were you- some part of his plan? Did he _need_ you for something? Why? Was this, necessary to whatever it was Kylo needed to- to- find out?

This was ridiculous. He could just tell you- why did he need this disguise and game? You shook your head. “I shouldn’t, I’m- busy.” 

His brow furrowed, a shift of disappointment, confusion off his response. His mouth opened, beginning to form some secondary plea-- but he turned. And went back to his seat, slumped over his plate. The Trooper made some comment that further provoked Matt's unhappiness. 

You left the mess hall.

 

 

You managed to avoid him at the next meal- you went to another floor’s mess, overrun with nameless, faceless ‘troopers. Only two officers and no technicians. Or fake-technicians. In fear of Kylo-Matt appearing, you ate quickly and spoke to no one. 

You laid alone in the bed, once again. Just as difficult as it had been while Kylo was off the ship- the bed was too big and cold without him. It wasn’t right not having him curl around you, to have his heartbeat and breathing echoing in the room. At least he was on the ship- and you could feel him, but it still wasn't- _right_. His mind was not pressed flush to yours, little half-formed thoughts and feelings passing between you more naturally than anyone could every understand. You needed him. You still tried to remain subtle about it- just sliding around the edges of his mind. Taking what comfort you could. 

At length, you found the grace of sleep. 

 

 

The lack of a breakfast droid was a real annoyance, more so than any other. You were still tired despite sleeping- the sleep period unfulfilling without Kylo's restful aura around you. You dressed in a groggy haze, half-asleep without any caf (or any of Kylo’s normal methods to wake you), and stumbled to the mess hall. You remained just barely aware enough to remember to go to the other hall. 

And were only just barely aware enough that you were entirely in the hall before you realized he was in line behind you. Tall, looming over your shoulder. You looked up to him slowly- tired. He stared back, seemingly also tired. His response was far away and muted, the effort to reach his mind more explicitly too much effort at the moment. He seemed tired, almost sad. Waiting. 

You got your food and sat down in the quietest part of the cafeteria- the only other person the immediate area was an officer gnawing on some toast. Matt sat opposite you, awkwardly placing his hands in his lap- staring at his plate while your nursed a large cup of caf. You picked at your breakfast and- thankfully- you were given a few blessed moments of relative silence. 

“So. Do you, _like_ training with Kylo Ren?” His eyes shifted from his food to your face and back. 

You took a long drink, shrugged. “It’s alright.” 

“What about-”

“Matt, I just woke up, I’m _tired.”_

“But-”

You hissed, low and quiet: _”Kylo.”_

He froze, his eyes widening. Alarm laced through his response, followed by shame and- humiliation. You- hadn't expected that. You reached for him- and he shot up- his chair clattering backwards. 

“Matt,” But he was already walking away- stiff, forced. His gait commanding and intimidating, like Kylo, of course.

You stood, followed him- practically jogging to keep up with his long strides. “Matt-- Matt.” You touched his arm- caught the gray uniform he wore- but he didn’t slow, nearly pulling you along with him. He turned, entering one of the smaller hallways- headed back towards your quarters. You pressed against his mind- _Kylo_.

He stopped so sharply you bumped his side. He stood there, shoulders high and stiff- his thumb rubbing anxiously over this fingers. Your let your hand slide down his arm, press into his hand- thread your fingers together. He didn’t move- you stroked your thumb over his knuckles. He didn’t look at you- but as you began to walk back to your quarters, you only had to tug on his arm once before he followed you.

He didn’t speak the entire walk, and didn’t speak when you entered your quarters again. When the door closed behind him, he leaned against the cool durasteel- your hand still holding his.

He swallowed, spoke quietly. “When- did you figure it out?”

“Immediately.” His hand tightened around yours, and you held his hand in both of yours. You rubbed over the knuckles, the worn callouses from years of training. “What’s going on, Kylo?”

You touched his face- stroked over his cheekbones, under the big clunky glasses he wore. He didn’t move- you could feel the muscles of his jaw tensing, working. He swallowed again- shifted, pulled your hand off his face- held both your hands between your bodies. 

“What do you- what do you think of Kylo Ren.” What was he-- his response shifted, opened to you. He hadn't _believed_ you. 

Oh. _Oh._ “Kylo,” You started to reach, to touch his face again-

“Please just-,” His voice tight, choked- he didn’t look at you, staring down at his feet. His hands tightened around yours- squeezing stiffly. 

You paused, gathered your words, nodded. “I think- Kylo is very strong and powerful. He’s passionate and intense. He’s dedicated to his cause… and the people he cares about.” You stroked your thumb over his knuckles again and his grip softened, his fingers moving against yours. “And I love him. With all my heart.” 

His mouth tightened, his lips wavering- “Kylo, I love you.” Your hand slipped free of his and you cupped the back of his head, drew him down- he curled over you. His head dropped to your shoulder, and you whispered to him “I love you.” 

And his hands curled into your robes, his body shaking with silent sobs- a hot wetness soaking into your neck. And- a whine, _“Why?”_

You pulled him closer- held him flush to your body. “I just do.” He shook his head, blonde curls bobbing in your face. You smoothed your hands over his back, slow soothing circles. You pressed the idea into his mind as brightly, as passionately as you could. Truthfully, honestly- cradling his mind with your own. “I love you, Kylo.”


	30. Prophecy [Explicit]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You sleep. You dream. You awaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Contains** : Lots of blood, but none directly used in play; a battle scene; a confession; honestly it's probably the most vanilla chapter I've written. I promise it won't last.
> 
> If you don't have Interactive Fics installed, or some other text-changer. I suggest you install it so that Y/n will appear as _your name_.
> 
> http://interactivefics.tumblr.com/

The smell of bitter, tanging metals- iron and copper, thick in the air. Ozone of burning sabers and blaster bolts. Somewhere, a ship has been shot down- dark, thick smoke is rising around you, dense with burning engine oil. You’ve long since dropped your mask-- you followed his style, dark, but with a flatter profile and smaller mouthpiece-- too lost in the battle to care. You needed to feel the foreign air on your skin, to taste the blood in the air instead of through your mask’s filter. This was- something personal.

Besides, you hadn’t been hit in battle in months, you were too good. You wouldn’t be hit today. You knew it. Even if you didn’t, these footsoldiers were awful shots and had no sense of the real power you wielded. But, you did know you wouldn’t be injured. You’d seen this day before. You both had.

It’s a dance, you’ve realized. After so long- you understood how it worked. Fighting with the Force. All the katas you’ve flown through, it’s simply a matter of feeling the flow of the Force around you- to find the balance of the physical reaction and that beyond instinct, to see what other people can’t. Your saber slices another faceless antagonist- clean through uniform and flesh and you don’t stop, spinning and reflecting a blaster shot back, moving forward into the next uniform, just as easily torn down as the last 

You stop- a scream drawing your attention away from the fight. Some young soldier injured in the line of duty. It’s a rebellion; a battle of these young, upstarts- fighting something so much bigger than themselves. You can respect it- that need to acquire power for your cause. You’d lived it. You’d fought for it. Nearly died for it- nearly lost everything you cared for in the pursuit of a shared power.

Hadn’t you? Hadn’t you- been in battles like this before?

Suddenly- this was. Wrong. Foreign. You’ve never seen this before- the smothering taste of death and burnt flesh. Where was Kylo? You dropped your saber. Why wasn’t he with you? Why were you here? You turned- looking for him, reaching out for him through the mess of the battlefield.

Kylo was up ahead of you- his own saber spinning in a wide, red arc- spitting sparks and hissing wildly. He swung fast and hard, cutting through a masked soldier’s neck- too fast to cauterize, blood spilling over his clothes, his helmet. He turned- paused. His masked head tilted, something strange filtering through his emotional response. He came towards you. All long, powerful strides and flowing robes that flapped around his legs. His thumb slipped off the ignition to his saber- the blade fizzling out as he dropped the hilt. 

He kept walking- came right up to you, towering over you with his impressive height, intimidating with his wrong mask and dark, stained robes. His response a flood of adrenal response, the nerves of a fight- jitters and the jumpy need to move and fight and kill, half driven by an unexpected lust. _He likes you bloodstained._ And yet- under all that primal urge- was a distant curiosity.

His mask was similar- but. Wrong, somehow. The metal bands were, thicker, more solid around the snout which was- wider and flatter, but still protruding. It’s been through many battles, just like the one he has. Had. It has a rough scrape to the right of the visor and a hard dent to the left of the mouthpiece. Little pockmarks of small impacts littered around the durasteel. _If he didn’t have his mask on he would kiss you._

His new vocoder held a different timber. Lower, smoother, than his old one. “Are you awake yet?” 

You shook your head, scrunched your brow. “What?”

“I can feel it’s you, really you.” His gloves touch your arms-- your arms covered in thick robes, dark with blood, grime. Slightly different than the robes hanging in your dresser. “Are you awake?” 

You tilted your head, the world strange again. Of course you were awake- you were in the middle of a battle. You weren’t in the habit of sleepwalking through a rebellion. Kylo shook his head, you could feel the sigh as it passed through his vocoder. He grabbed at the seals and-

Lightning would have been more gentle; you gasped, covered your mouth, took a step away. You wanted to grab for your saber- even, even after all these _years_. 

He was your Kylo, all overbearing response and still-burning lust, all masked over such a warm affection-- and yet. _”Your face,”_ You whispered, the vision coming back in perfect clarity. His beautiful, angular face cut with a pink scar from jaw to brow. The same scar he had in that forest where he--

“I know,” He said quietly, steps towards you. He’s slow, raises his hand just so gently- bloody gloves cupping your jaw. “You can finally see it,” 

You stare at him- his new face. The scar looking so real and yet- somehow superimposed over his face like a holo. You look up to him, lean into his hand. “This is a vision. _The_ vision.” 

He smiled- so bright and wide and relieved and _real_. His emotional response is flooded with such a genuine happiness. You want to cry. He’s never looked like this in the real world. He’ll give you those soft half smiles or smarmy sly looks when he’s up to no good. But this is-- “It’s our future, can’t you see it?” He’s _happy_. 

He urges you to turn your head in his hands so you look around. The remains of a long battle surround you. Unnaturally quiet after a slaughter- a pause in the action from the Force. A stolen moment that will never truly happen- only ever in a dream. The real thing will never be this quiet. Even when you win- and, you do win- there will still be the crackling of low fires and the groans of the injured. The hissing hydraulics of ships and the whining of ion engines.

Like this, all you could hear is the wind shifting the knee-high grasses around you- little whispers from a far away lifetime. It’s a dry environment with rolling hills. The thin grassy plants already naturally orange, painted red by the spilled blood- cut and charred in places by stray blaster bolts and saber swings. It’s strangely peaceful.

“Can’t you see it?” He whispered, ducked his head and pressed his lips to your neck, nosing at your jaw. You sighed, tipped your head for him. Kylo moved higher, over your jaw- nipping and sucking your skin on his way to your lips.

This kiss is- different. He starts so slow, hesitating over your lips before tasting you again, savoring your mouth- feeling your lips and tongue as though it was the first time. Perhaps- it was in a way. He sighed against your open mouth- pulls you flush against him- forcing his tongue between your lips.

He left one blood-soaked glove at your cheek, forcibly pressing and angling your mouth through his kiss. The other hand pressed hard to the small of your back, held you to him, not leaving any space between you- his mind pressed even closer over yours. Hot with lust and adoration. He kept your body still and- grinds against your belly, and you can feel it- how achingly hard he is.

He’s desperate- you could taste it in his kiss now. He needed you. In a dream’s battlefield- but. No, this was a part of the vision, wasn’t it? How he wanted you like this, wanted to show everyone on any side that you were _his._

He guided you down- never lets his mouth leaving yours. The ground was slick with blood, everything about this dream world feeling warm and wet. Kylo’s hands left your face- your back, and came around to the front of your robes. He’s slow. Unclipping belts and clasps, removing dark layers of tabards and midcoats. He was gentle, reverent. Touching every inch of skin that was slowly revealed to him- laying your robes out under you as you became bare before him. Presses his lips over your arms and belly, even down your legs as he removed your boots.

Only when you had nothing left did Kylo begin to pull at his own robes. He kissed you and tugged off his gloves. He moved to pull at his belt with your hands clinging to his shoulders and tugging off his cowl. He dropped his robes alongside you, covering more of the rough ground with your dark clothes.

Your hands slid over his chest. You counted the changes in his skin- all the little nicks and scars that were not there yet, wondered on all the things that would happen between now and this. A large spot on his side seemed to flicker and fade under your fingertips. You could feel it- see it around his eyes. He was older, and yet- he felt so much younger, more alive. More whole despite the evidence otherwise. 

He kissed you again, pressing his whole body against you- warm and large and solid. His hands petting at your hair- sliding around your face, down your neck. He cupped your breasts, stroked at your nipples with his thumbs- his hands smoothing down, over the curve your belly. Between you, his cock was warm and hard against your thigh- a hot trail of precum leaking against your skin. 

Kylo’s lips left yours for a moment- backing away to see your face. You raised your hand- traced over the pink, rough scar that bisected his face. The scar that haunted your dreams in fear that he would become that other person. You slid your fingers through his beautiful hair- and

Your heart stopped. You stared at your hand. 

Kylo touched your wrist- your fingers still halfway threaded into his hair. He brought your hand to his lips, stared into your eyes as he kissed your fingers. As his lips warm against the cold metal around your finger. He wasn’t surprised- of course. He’d seen this. He already knew.

It was simple, despite Kylo’s flair for the dramatic. A layer of a high-polished gunmetal gray durasteel, a layer of shined chromium, another layer of durasteel. Kylo looked to it, turned it around on your finger- the shine catching and shifting. He laid his soft lips to it again, closed his eyes. 

And- you felt it. Hesitant- unsure. Aching, but. Still there, still new and bright. The warm, glowing press of his emotional response. A comforting feeling that wrapped around you, slid into your body and took up residence behind your rib cage. He felt it- and he knew he did, the overwhelming power of it. 

Shocked tears wet your eyes, your glazing blinking from the ring on your fourth finger up to his face.“Kylo?” 

“Y/n.” He sighed, kissed the ring again. He touched your face, pushed his hand through your hair- his eyes soft, kind, and shining. “I-” He paused, taking a shuddering breath as a single tear rolled over his cheek. He tried again. “I love you, Y/n.”

Before you could sob he pressed his lips to yours again. Your arms wrapped around him, anchoring him to you- your mind lost in the unreality of the dream and the echoing pound of your heart and the hot trails of your tears mixing together over your face. You felt- like you’d been cracked open and exposed, and yet- safe and contained within him, within each other. 

He slid into you, just like that. Too slick and easy to be anything less than a dream- but it felt real enough. Felt like Kylo was filling you up entirely, physically and with his Force-presence. His warm body curved over yours as he thrusted- slow and deep, pulled one of your legs up to hook over his hip. He kept kissing you- his lips never moving far from your mouth. Nipping and sucking at your lips and tongue, he didn’t need to speak, even with the Force. What more could he say now?

He gathered both your hands in his- threaded your fingers together and held your arms down beside your head. It was- _too_ good- the entire world too warm and soft, the atmosphere of the planet echoing back all the adoration- and- _love_ that he’d spoken. Your perception narrowed down to the blood-stained ground, your robes, Kylo’s body and beautiful, smothering presence in your mind . You sighed into his mouth, squeezed his hands and let your legs wrap entirely around his hips, locking your ankles behind him. 

His mouth finally moved away, licking along your jaw before he presses his face against your neck- breathing hard and hot against your skin. He shifted his hips- pulls at your body with- not the Force, but whatever other metaphysical thing holds together dreams. He’s deeper like this but- there’s something else stroking at the tender spot inside you. A phantom sensation- some impossible thing- not shimmering and gray with the Force, but seemingly solid and real. 

You moaned, turn towards Kylo’s face, try to nuzzle against him- pressing into his mind how _good_ that is, how _full_ you feel. He responded, wordless, with his own pleasure- the warmth that has gathered in his pelvis, how your mind has tangled with his more intimately than your bodies ever could be. 

He shifted again- even more impossibly- keeping his cock at the same angle, but moving to rub at your clit with his body. You sigh into his hair- squeeze his hands tighter and let the inevitable take you. Soft, almost gentle ecstasy- your back arching, lifting off your robes and pressing flush to Kylo’s body as you gasp, moan- your body twitching under him- letting the bliss wash over you and into his mind. You were too connected like this- the pleasure that echoed through into him was too intense, and it pushed him over the edge, made him bite at your neck and shake, groaning.

 

 

You were still connected to him- something, so intimate it almost felt tangible in itself. A little string of consciousness so brightly tied between your minds. You didn't have to reach for him at all, he was just- there. A part of you. And you could feel it for yourself- the wetness that slid from between your legs, the remnants of such a pleasant vision. His cock was softening against your back, a hot pool of cum between your bodies, smeared over your ass already. 

Kylo shifted, moaned softly against your hair- moved to let you roll towards him. Your mind was hazy, still awakening to the real sensations and letting go of that beautiful world. His eyes were half-lidded, pupils wide and dark. His cheeks were still pink- lips gloriously kiss-swollen and red. He smiled so softly- such a gentle lilt of _happiness_ over his mind. 

You reached up- cupped his face- stroked your thumb over his cheek. You swallowed- tried to work up the courage-

But you were still connected. He felt what you wanted to ask. He whispered it, like a secret: “I lo- love you.” It was awkward, heavy on his tongue. A word so long unused, lost from his mind. It felt- Wrong. Forbidden. It had warmed you, before, in the dream. And now- you shivered with an unseen chill. Some cautionary, foreboding air sliding over the room. You met his eyes- you didn’t even need to read his response to know he felt it too. 

He touched your face, held you closer. “Something important is coming.” He leaned closer, tilted his head. “Can you feel it?”

You swallowed- closed your eyes. The world had changed around you, a sense of-- of something, waiting for you just around the corner. Lurking in the shadows.You opened your eyes again- sought his comforting gaze. You didn’t need to tell him, but nodded. He touched your hair- a dubious reservation falling from him. 

_Nobody can take you from me._ He pressed his forehead to yours. Slid that warm, comforting feeling to you again, filled you up with his adoration. _Nobody._

And- he was hesitant. Kylo was bared before you, exposed in so many ways. You smiled, slid your arms around him. You echoed the feeling back to him, let it circled between you- wrap around you- you held onto it tightly. Something may be approaching, but you held something more important than anything that the universe could throw at you now. 

In a snap, the mood changed. That foreboding air congealed before you, slithered into some revelation in Kylo’s mind. He drew away emotionally, and then- his dark brows furrowed- his head lifted towards the door. A heavy resignation- an excited anxiety took place in his mind. “They’ve found him.” 

“San Tekka.”

He nodded, turned back to you. Stroked your face once more- followed the curve of your cheek. It was different-- “Y/n. When this is over. When I destroy Skywalker and the Jedi--” His finger traced over your lips, “I’ll make you mine.”

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for some TFA action????


	31. Awakening [Explicit][SW:TFA]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You attend your first battle and get a little more than you ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Contains** approximately the first half of SW:TFA, Kylo Ren's outbursts, rough angry sex, choking, hair pulling, keep the mask on.

Your heart thudded in your chest. You picked at and adjusted your armor over and over, the new, additional padding over your arms and legs- the thicker material over your midcoat. Under the high collar of your Knight’s undersuit, your real collar rubbed at your neck. This was really going to happen. Your first mission.

You weren’t going in a combative position, of course. You were still learning basic hand-to-hand combat from Kylo, let alone weaponry. Or. Sabers. No, you’d be of no use in a fight. You shuddered- a pleasant mix of fear and excitement collecting in your belly. No, you were here to observe- to get a firsthand experience of battle. Of the life of a Knight. Well. Kylo had doubted there would be much of a battle left for you; in theory the village- on a desert planet, Jakku, and situated on the top of a plateau- had only a handful of combatants. 

Still. Your hands curled inside their gloves- subtly looked to Kylo. He was still holding himself as his persona; he stood tall, back painfully straight as the shuttle shook, entered the planet’s atmosphere. You stood beside him, just barely behind. The two field captain ‘troopers who had flanked him on your _last_ expedition had relocated accordingly, the red-flagged trooper to your left. 

Curious, you reached to her mind- she was almost _bored_. She’s done this so many times, there’s no anxiety left in her for this. It’s comforting, soothing against your own unsettled nerves. Kylo reached for you- at first, with the Force. A soft, winding touch around your wrist and the warmth of his mind. He’s still stiff. Highly controlled- wrought with his own nerves. If this meeting goes well he’ll be on his way to achieve the main goal he’s held for years. He _needs_ this to go well.

But, he pauses. And- against whatever inner code he’s taught himself- brushes the back of his hand against yours. It could have been hidden as the ship shaking with turbulence, but with the soft shift of his helmet towards you and the soft press of his mind against yours-- _You’ll be fine._

You sigh, smile to him, and swallow your nerves. You’re only here to observe- to dip your toes into this. Into, battle. And war.

The shuttle shook again, the wings’ extensions sliding back into place- the engines shifting into vertical- and shaking once more as the shuttle touched down. A trooper behind you hit the ramp switch, the seals unlocking and letting the ramp lowered over the scene.

You’d-- seen this before, too. Brief, just barely a flash from some other perspective. Worse, however, was the overwhelming sense of panic. Every creature’s mind in the village was screaming in distress- some were actually screaming. You flinched, moved as if to cover your ears but- calmed your mind. You were here as a Knight in training, you needed to… represent yourself highly. You pulled back into your own head, focused on Kylo’s calmness again. And followed him into the village. 

The air on this planet was dry, mixed with the acrid taste of the fires- the smell of flametroopers’ accelerants- it burned at your nose and throat, made your eyes water. You blinked the urge to cough and cry away, watched Kylo’s powerful stride- fought to keep pace with his long legs. He had no hesitation- simply felt the old man, San Tekka’s presence and immediately went to him.

The man was- not what you had expected. For all his courage- a tingling spike of fear came through him at the sight- two dark-robed Knights before him- but no. This fear ran singularly, only for Kylo. And, at the corners of his mind- a fleeting ache of familiarity, as though seeing a family member. 

Kylo, for his part- was silent. His response only read of contempt, an impatient edge. You could feel it-- see it. Near-gentle touches to the old man’s mind as Kylo spoke, and yet-- San Tekka redirected. “Something much worse has happened to you,” 

You looked to him- watched as Kylo shifted- restated his goals, tried to bring his thoughts back on topic. And there, again-- “I know where you come from.” 

Redirection was a simple interrogation tactic, but this was calculated. Purposeful, knowing. As was Kylo. “The map to Skywalker,” It was simpler, to just have them think of it. To lure the old man into thinking of the map- where it was. What it looked like. “-and now you’ll give it to the First Order.” 

San Tekka was flawless, redirected. “The First Order rose from the Dark Side; you did not.” 

Now there it was- the frustration licking at the corners of Kylo’s mind. “I’ll _show you_ the Dark Side.” You shivered at the threat in his voice and you ached to calm him, but this was not your domain, and worse. This was important. 

“You cannot deny the truth that is your family,” 

There’s a pause- a beat that you can feel in the Force itself. Through Kylo you can feel two things- the fast realization that San Tekka no longer had the map in his possession-- and the burning, quick blaze that poured from him. Hot as fire, nearly making you stumble away from him- “You’re so right.” and then, real fire. His saber ignited, spitting sparks and- San Tekka raise an arm in defense. 

A single strike- hardly any resistance at all. No blade would do that damage. Vibros would shred soft tissues but-- you watched, in horror- as the body fell. And then-

A scream, the fast sounds of a blaster rifle!

The Force erupted from Kylo, a near blastwave making you _actually_ stumble away, the air stolen from your lungs. And somehow, midway between Kylo and his attacker- In midair hung the blaster bolt, a bright glowing blue- surrounded, contained in the opaque darkness of Kylo’s mind. And there- behind the bolt was a man, similarly held in place. 

Your stomach churned in stunned horror. You were not trained with blasters, but you knew they were fast. Very fast. And Kylo had- caught a bolt.

The man and the bolt alike struggled against Kylo’s grasp, shaking and fighting for their freedom. Not one, but two extensions of the Force, containing. Not even killing him. It would be easier- you were sure- to snap his neck. But Kylo held him, held the bolt. And you could feel him, distanced. Unfazed by this. Powerful.

His attention was only on this man’s mind, his connection to the map, to San Tekka. And- something personal. A memory that ached to be revealed that Kylo pushed away, buried behind one of his thick, personal walls. No thought at all was given to the dense, near opaque ropes of swirling Force energy connecting the man, the bolt, and himself. It took no effort at all for him to see it, as the solider was forced to his knees before you. “The old man gave it to you.” 

A startled response came from the attacker’s mind as he spoke- but they were done here. If he did not have it on his person, he’d hidden it somewhere. Interrogation would reveal where the map was. "Put him on board." 

And then-- Phasma. Beautifully chrome-plated, professional. “Sir, the villagers?”

You knew it was protocol. The pre-ordained guide to all interactions remotely hostile. It didn’t make you any less sick- as you looked into the crowd of villagers. _They’re enemies of the Order._ Kylo whispered to you, tries to quiet you. _Information of this must not reach the Resistance._ You closed your eyes and nod- you understand completely. This is war and taking prisoners- especially this many- was not feasible.

First, his vocoder spoke, “Kill them all." And then, to your mind: _Go back to the ship._ You nodded, turned away from the screaming of blasters. 

 

 

Your hands shook so you pressed them together, held them over your face. The leather still smelled of oil, thankfully, and you inhaled deeply- unable to dislodge the disgust in your body. A warm hand settled over your back, rubbing softly through the many layers of robes and armor. You looked to his mask- already knowing what he was feeling. 

Concern, mostly, but beneath that was a touch of disappointment. He hadn’t expected you to react so poorly. To become nearly physically ill in response to battle. You were ashamed, which only served to add to your disgust. You’d been training to become a Knight, you knew exactly what that entailed. You’d seen it in your own vision-- your sword slicing through bodies of the enemy. Not a care in the world.

You dropped your head. The hand on your back trailed higher, then moved to pull you flush to Kylo’s side. You leaned on him. _It gets easier._

You wanted to snort at him. Easier? Yes, of course you already knew it inevitably would- but it wasn’t easy right now. The smell of smoke still lingered- your head too easily filled with the echoing ring of minds being silenced. You looked up to Kylo from your hands- wondered how long it took for him to grow jaded to the sights and sounds of war. 

Behind his concern and disappointment were fainter emotions- things not directed to you. An anxious desire to obtain the map, the feedback that had been clinging to his mind continuously since San Tekka had been located. Beyond that- a slight frustration. Kylo had actually hoped he'd retrieve the map on the surface, and now the search had to continue. He needed to find that map, to figure out what the pilot had done with it. He had to be interrogated, immediately.

The ship shook as it reentered the _Finalizer’s_ atmos, docking into the shuttle bay. Kylo’s hand fell from your back as the pilots stepped out of the cockpit. The ramp lowered again, this time greeting you with the crisp recycled air of the _Finalizer._ You shuddered- and followed Kylo as he left his shuttle. 

His mind lingered on the pilot- considering how long it would take for him to bend before the IT-000. For how determined he was to get the map, you had near expected him to oversee the interrogation directly- but, at length, he lead you back to your safe, quiet quarters. Neither of you spoke in the trip across the ship, Kylo still half-lost in wondering where a pilot could've hidden something so quickly.

His mask hissed as Kylo pulled it off, dropping it heavily onto the bed as he entered his bedroom. His dark robes pooled around him as he sat at the foot of the bed. You wordlessly settled beside him, crossing your legs and resting your hands in your lap, familiar with this routine. His mind held onto yours, slow to let go of the tension in his body. 

His thoughts, blatantly obvious to you as he began to relax into meditation, shimmered with his plans- how he would confront Skywalker, and the fight that would inevitably follow as soon as he retrieved the map. You shivered, recalled what Kylo could do so easily on Jakku. If Kylo could do that- what would a Jedi Master be capable of? What would _you_ be capable of, once you training was done?

Your breath synced with Kylo’s, a low steady rhythm as your minds began to settle. You focused on the battle, replaying the little you had seen. That would become your life, eventually- and meditating gave you just enough removal to truly consider the events. Kylo was obviously more than skilled enough to actively participate in battle- but had arrived after ‘troopers had secured the village. He had been in command the moment he touched down. No hesitation, pure power- near instinctive. You would need to become that, somehow. To find your own power and confidence to lead armies.

Kylo’s comlink beeped, drew you from your meditation. The singular beeping became a more insistent alarm, eventually garnering Kylo’s attention. As he returned to the present, his response was a brittle, but controlled, driving rage. A calm surface over the dark Force swelling inside him. As far as he was concerned, the destruction of the Jedi would happen today and _nothing_ in the galaxy would stop him. He checked the screen, frowned. 

“The pilot has resisted interrogation." He paused, scrolled down through the message. "I have to go." His mood fell further, the feeling of recognition passed through him- an uncomfortable pang of familiarity quickly blocked by the clouded walls inside Kylo’s mind. And then- a momentary question passed between your minds, making him hesitate. You were still half-shaken from the events of Tuanul- it wouldn’t do you any good to watch this. 

Kylo stood, adjusted his robes and- looked to you, a lingering passion burning behind his eyes, a powerful, scorching determination- and slid his helmet back into place.

As the doors to your quarters closed again, you exhaled slowly and settled back to your meditation. You closed your eyes- focused on the feel of the pull of the Force and the peaceful, empty void of deep meditation. You thought on the power within you- the low flicker of raw Force ability that Kylo had been helping you cultivate. You focused on the gentle flowing of the Force in the universe. The Force, you had learned, was based through all living things and, by extension, did not linger on starships. In some ways, this was good. Your own signature and Kylo's were so distinct on such a voided background.

Meditation like this- that had been your biggest tool. The better you understood your own mind, your own power, your place in the universe- the more you could control it. The more you could increase that power. 

A few decks’ distance was nothing for your bond to reach through- still intimately connected when he entered the room- your mind pulled to him for a moment. The small, dark room- the interrogation droid off to Kylo's right. You thought nothing of it- tried to center yourself again. To think of yourself alone- and- the connection between your minds burned in you, pulled you towards him.

You- you could feel it, through him. The tendrils of raw energy that slid from Kylo’s fingertips- how he thought of them as infinite blades, whittling them down into infinitesimally small edges, sharp enough to cut through any resistance a regular person’s mind could produce. And how they cut through natural processes, defenses, memories. And you heard the pain echoing through the pilot’s body, whispered back into Kylo’s mind in sick reverberation- his ragged gasping grating over Kylo’s ears.

You sobbed, pushing as much control as you had into suppressing your connection, drew up any shielding you had learned. Kylo’s signature lingered behind your eyelids even as you clapped a hand over your mouth, dragged your hand over the carpet and thought of the physical only- pushed the man’s screaming-- _Poe Dameron,_ you had heard from Kylo’s digging-- pushed it far away.

You should’ve known. Should’ve known that you’d be too attached to Kylo to not feel the interrogation. Torture. You knew- before. In a distant, clinical way what the Order did, what they were up against. The measures they needed to take to ensure the eventual safety of the galaxy- and yet. Why? Why had this happened now? Perhaps you were too close- or perhaps Kylo was too open with his mind. You dragged your hand over the carpet again, focused on the gentle burn of the friction, leaned against the foot of the bed.

You knew what Kylo was- you had always known; you’d lived half within his mind for easily a few months. You knew he was- without a doubt- a murderer, violent, destructive. But it was different in the real world, rather than in his memories. But you should’ve known better- he’d attacked you before, hadn’t he? He’d rifled within your mind as easily as he had the pilot’s. He’d given no thought to trying to kill you, to choke you to unconsciousness. And if that was for someone who he was foretold to rule beside, why wouldn’t he be so ruthless to his enemies?

Distantly, past the thick, distressed shielding between your minds Kylo’s worry pressed at you- he was walking quickly, brushing off something Hux had said. You pushed him away again, rubbed at your temples. Thought of anything but the third-hand agony that had sliced through your mind and now- a new pressure sliding in behind your eye socket. No, not new. And terribly obvious- you inched your mind open just a touch- just enough to tell him what had happened and how utterly miserable this day was turning out to be. 

That was kind of how these things went, didn’t it? Major turning points in war were never really enjoyable, even for the winning party.

The immediate, heart-clenching concern was slaked, and yet he remained- a hovering sort of misery hanging about your skull. 

 

 

When he returned to your quarters, he sat behind you. Wrapped his long arms around your waist and presses the heavy snout of his mask against your shoulder. You leaned back against him and sighed.

He scattered soft apologies against you, a hesitant melancholic ringing off his emotional response. He held you a little tighter, prods more delicately at your unhappiness. You sighed against him- feel his aching desire to soothe you. _It gets easier_ he had told you- was that what had happened to him? He’d taken so many little steps down this path he could slaughter and torture without a thought? And that was still your future. Kylo squeezed at your sides, covered one of your hands with his own- the big, gloved hand easily covered yours.

You could feel the words aching to form on his tongue or in your bond, but neither come. Little half-phrases filter by, _it’s not easy, help you, sorry,_ their full meanings lost and yet their intentions preserved. There’s so much riding on your success as a Knight- his own success, your relationship. Your life, most likely, and if not that than certainly your own happiness. And there’s more than enough reason for Kylo to have selfish intentions in helping you, but it’s not there. Only the sincere wish to not see you in pain. To see you succeed for yourself. 

And he’s horrified, of course, that he caused your pain. That his- and your- profession are so troublesome to your mind-- that his own connection to you echoed the pain of the pilot. And worse, still, he wasn’t entirely sure how to help. You would need to be exposed to such horrors if you were ever expected to commit them yourself- but would being hard and unsympathetic help or hurt? 

And yet- behind all that compassion and the how he aches for you- he’s guarding something still, something he's been carefully hiding since Jakku. Of course. You press against his own shields in that way- a caress of your own. A sad question echoed back at him. He would help you hone your mind and skills- to teach you to _kill_ and _torture_ for the Knights- he’d finally given voice to the warm ache he felt for you- and yet he still couldn’t bare himself entirely. 

You turned towards his face- rubbed your forehead against the hard surface of his mask. You wouldn’t push it, you whispered in silence to him, not today. In turn, a sense of gratitude, awe. It only took the slightest pressure to hear his thoughts: _What did I do to deserve you?_

The first thing you’re aware of- consciously- is Kylo’s arms become a quick vice around your rib cage, squeezing the air from your lungs. Second, was the sudden screeching of a siren- an obnoxious Klaxon alarm echoing through the ship. Next came a wave of panic through so many people on board- thousands of enlisted soldiers scrambling to battle positions and trying to figure out just what was going on. 

And then- Kylo was pulling himself from your embrace, one hand reflexively touching his saber. His vocoder distorted, and yet his emotional response was completely clear: “Stay here.” 

 

 

 

You watched the various screens flicker through their cycles, the gentle blue glow in contrast to the various blinking red lights around the console. The screens here meant nothing to you; a navigation officer may have made sense of them, but they were only white noise to you mind. Off to the left was an expansive viewport, allowing a wide view of the top of the lower decks of the _Finalizer_ and, in the distance, the yellow-orange deserts of Jakku. 

The pilot had escaped. That's what the alarm had been for, and though that should've concerned you- you could only focus on Kylo's lingering thoughts on the pilot, the old man. Not even conscious thoughts, truly. Just little whispers, impressions that slid under his main focus: the droid. the map. 

“You knew them, didn’t you?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Kylo’s head turned towards you for a moment, before turning back to whichever screen he was viewing himself. You suspected it was the report from the ground, the troopers that had been deployed planetside. All you knew for sure was that the two TIE fighters had lost contact not long after the airstrike had been called for, which did not bode well for the result of this mission. You felt low agitation shift off him once more as he considered his response. He cautiously kept you out of his mind as he sorted through his memories. “From another life.” He paused, “It doesn’t matter now.” 

You considered that for a moment. That in _another life_ he knew a Jedi-sympathetic wandering monk and a Resistance pilot. Well. It felt rather obvious- and yet, you knew enough about Kylo Ren to know not to conclude anything about him. You held by your perhaps naive hope that he would, in time, tell you about this past life. Let those barriers down in his mind by choice. 

Instead- you became aware of someone approaching. A nervous mind, held together by strict decorum well-ingrained by General Hux and a healthy fear of the Master of the Knights. You turned halfway towards the man as he entered- a lieutenant with a kind face and dark hair that you couldn’t immediately place. And then, you could. You’d seen him in the brief week you had held a regular post on the ship, _Mitaka._ You had found him attractive, before all this.

The lieutenant’s gaze flicked to your own, before returning to staring at Kylo’s back. He removed the cap from his head- braced himself. “Sir, we were unable to acquire the droid on Jakku.” 

Kylo’s mind- previously still buzzing with half-buried memories that were more-than-half hidden behind his shields, stopped entirely. He turned slowly towards Mitaka, and you could feel it- the sudden tension in his body, how tightly his fists were curled. Your eyes stuck to his dark form, watching carefully as his anger bubbled up and the darkness of anger collected around his fists. “It escaped capture aboard a stolen Corellian YT model freighter.”

This, too, made something slide uncomfortably through Kylo’s mind and, for a moment, his anger was side tracked. “The droid… stole a freighter?” 

You looked back to Lieutenant Mitaka, just as confused as Kylo, if not slightly amused.

“We have no confirmation, but we believe FN-2187 may have been helped in the escape--” And there it was. The rage you’d managed to subvert for weeks, suddenly back and flaring to life. Your eyes widened- you moved to step towards him, to stop this before it became a problem- 

and you heard it again. The buzzing flare of the blade, then the lower spitting of the vents. The blue screens suddenly pale compared to the burning plasma. Your heart hammered in your chest- a mutual clench of fear echoing from the lieutenant’s mind. You stepped back, though you were already out of the way of any stray burning debris. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you realized before today you’d never seen his sword in use and now- he brought the blade down and the electrical circuits screeched, screens blinking out in an instant as the sword cut too easily through sheets of metal and delicate engineering. You couldn’t quite look away- captivated and catching each swing of the blade as he swung again and again.

The hits slowed, his panting audible through the vocoder. His rage had cooled below boiling, the destructing bringing just enough of a catharsis. Still, his anger rolled off him in hot, heavy waves- charging the room with tension- through his mind you felt how tightly he held his saber, the ridges biting into his hand through his gloves. With difficulty, his thumb slid off the activation plate and the saber powered down.

“Anything else?” He asked, still panting. 

The lieutenant- now quite pale- paused, his mouth working before he found the will to speak- “The two were accompanied by a girl,” 

The Force was lightning quick, the dark extension of himself shot through the air before Kylo’s arm was even raised and wrapped tight around the officer’s throat. You stepped back in shock, and watched half horrified as Mitaka was dragged across the room like a rag doll, the toes of his boots dragging on the floor. 

Kylo’s hand was just as brutal as his Force grip, his fingers clamping hard around Mitaka’s windpipe. The lieutenant’s smaller hands grabbed at Kylo’s wrist, his face already turning red. Kylo payed no mind to the pain and fear covering his face and response, _“What girl?”_

You stepped forward, cautious with the rage pouring from Kylo’s mind. “Master Ren?”

You saw it- _felt_ it when Kylo slid into his mind, wasted no time to sort through the orderly, obedient, well-trained consciousness of any First Order officer. He sifted through files- sought the ground report Mitaka had received. But he wasn’t looking at the physical world, wasn’t looking at Mitaka’s face darkening, his eyelids fluttering.

Kylo would kill him if you didn’t stop him-- You hadn’t even realized you’d moved until your hand was wrapped around Kylo’s arm, the other resting at his hip. “Kylo,” you spoke, even and calm, straight to his mind, _Kylo, let go of him._

He held there for a long moment, and you feared he wouldn't- that he'd kill him just because of your reaction. But finally- stiff from the pressure, Kylo’s hand slowly let go and Mitaka dropped to a crumpled heap on the floor, gasping and covering his tender throat. His response was raw fear, his body held still only by the deeply ingrained need to be dismissed- Kylo beat you to it- _”Leave!”_ Mitaka wasted no time, scrambling to his feet and fleeing the room.

Kylo stared at the door even after Mitaka had left the room. With your hand on his hip you could feel his chest shaking with each angry breath, his fist so tight around his saber’s hilt his arm trembled. You stroked at his arm, ruffling the ribbed fabric of his undersuit, and urged his arm back down to his side, still half raised from his assault on Mitaka. You dropped your voice, tried to push a sense of calmness to him. “It’s alright, Kylo. You’ll find it.” 

He jerked away from you and you realized just how thin a line you were walking once more. You had suddenly become the only thing in the room that he could redirect his frustration onto. “You don’t understand,” His arms dropped, his spine straightening to tower over you, forcing you to look up into the black transparisteel of his mask’s visor. He clipped his saber back onto his belt.“I _need_ that map.” 

He took one step towards you, his signature heavy and dark in the room, the Force still curling readily around his hands. You shivered at his rage and the cold presence of his raw power and the sparking heat of the molten panel beside you. “Now it could be anywhere in the galaxy.” 

He stepped closer- the backs of your thighs pressed against the edge of the unshredded panel. “And you- you don’t even want me to kill _him.”_ He pushes you back, forcing you up against the console, and then down- lying over various buttons and knobs and screens. It’s just too short, the hard edge biting into your lower back while your legs bend and slide to try and support you.

It takes no effort at all for him to hold your wrists down with his dark, opaque Force power- your left hand held a little too close to the hot remains of tech. And yet- a familiar warmth gathered in your belly.

Of course. You’d associate his rage with something a little more acceptable- you’d relieved his stress more than once- him restraining you with the Force was just icing on the cake, really. His hand slid behind your head, curling tight at the root of your hair, yanking back to make your head tilt up and you _moan._

You think, somehow, you should be afraid. Should be terrified of Kylo Ren’s horrible outbursts, but all you can think of is the desperate ache settling between your trembling thighs and the fact Kylo _knew_. There’s no way he couldn’t, surely your own emotional response had tipped into obvious arousal. Kylo held still for a moment, the untempered rage hesitating and warping into something more pleasurable. 

He wasted no time now, already set on what he would do to you. You were, after all, a much more acceptable a stress relief than destroying the ship or killing personnel. He slapped your robes aside, grabbing at the hem of your undersuits’ pants, jerking them down around your thighs.

Gloved fingers of his left hand slid between your legs, pressing cruelly hard against your clit until you whimpered, bucked into his touch. “So _optimistic.”_ His vocoder hissed, “It took months to find that map.”

His hand moved lower, forced two long fingers inside you, fast and hard. Immediately he started pounding at your sensitive skin- his knuckles smacking against soft labia with each thrust in, his fingers angled upwards just slightly. You gasped and shook under him, your hands curling into fists, pulling against his restraints. 

His hips found your thigh, rutting brutally against your leg- letting you feel how hard he was under his robes. 

A growl reverberated through his chest- his hands leaving you to pull at his belt and robes. You whined at the loss, writhed and arched towards him as he withdrew his hard cock, the pink flesh almost pale against the dark cloth of his robes. He stroked it once, hissed through the vocoder, and dragged the leather of his gloves over the slit, smearing the drop of precum that collected. 

He stepped close again, grabbing one of your thighs, his fingers digging in deeply. He lifted your leg up, the other following, still tied together by the pants around your thighs, and pulled them against his chest. Both hands held your legs there- and with your arms still held to the console- you were helpless under him. His cock rested against your cunt in this position, and he thrusted like that- letting his cock rub over your soft, wet folds, the head bumping and dragging over your clit. 

You whimpered, lifted your hips- tried to urge him inside. “Kylo,”

His hand shot up- wrapped tight around your throat, just as he had with Mitaka. You tried to whine- Even with the muted flatness of his vocoder’s voice, you could feel the threat behind his words: _“Shut. Up.”_ You swallowed, felt your throat fight to work under his palm- you bit your lip and nodded as your face warmed with blood.

His fist didn’t leave your throat as he shifted, and all at once, drove his cock into you with one harsh thrust. Your mouth hung open, your eyes squeezed closed as you ached to moan- the glorious feeling of being stretched open again for him- but his hand was too tight, only a pitiful wheeze escaped your throat. 

His other hand curled around both your legs, holding them together and making your cunt feel even tighter around him, and pulled them over his left shoulder. The hand around your throat loosened and you gasped in a full breath- just in time for Kylo to snap his hips back against you and drive the air from your lungs. 

He resumed the brutal pace he had set with his fingers, fucking you hard and fast, driving your back against the rough, uncomfortable surface of the console. His thrusts came rapidly, pushing into you again, again, again. The tip of his cock pounded against your cervix and you whimpered. His fingers closed around your throat again, letting the pleasant buzz build in your head as he continued to pound into you. 

You rubbed your thighs in time with his rhythm, the gentle pressure was the only stimulation on your clit. You tried to wiggle your hips, to get him to touch you where you needed it- but Kylo continued on. His hand rigid, vice-like around your legs while the other held your throat- opening again to let you breathe. 

“Fucking _incompetent,”_ A particularly brutal thrust rebounded off your cervix, and you gasped, arched away from him- pulling yourself higher against the console. Kylo pursued you, lifting his knee up onto the surface of the machines. “Can’t get a fucking droid.” He bent over you more- pushing your legs higher, your knees coming up closer to your shoulders. The hand around your throat fell away, moving to instead support his new angle.

His mask was so alarmingly blank, you could see your reflection in the rings around his visor. He was panting now- you could hear it this close to him, little rasps filtering through his vocoder. You shifted your hips again- growing desperate for any touch at all, but unwilling to disobey his previous command. 

But. Through your connection you could feel Kylo getting close. You bit your lip, hoped he wouldn’t punish you, and softly pressed your need against his mind. A growl rumbled in his chest, and he leaned further down- you shivered at the cold durasteel of his mask pressing against your cheek- the edge of the snout biting into your shoulder. And- mercifully, the arm around your thighs loosened, slid up your body, over your hip- and slotted his thumb just between your legs. 

He rubbed manically, back and forth with the side of his thumb over your clit. You bucked, writhed under him- chasing that peak. Kylo moved his head even closer- the ridges under his visor catching on your jaw. And he _moaned_ , distorted and mechanical through his vocoder- the speaker vibrating against your skin. You shivered- and that was enough. 

You gasped, turned towards his mask as best you could and closed your eyes. You clenched around his cock, still brutally fucking you- pulling your orgasm out longer and longer until. A shuddering spit of static through Kylo’s mask, his hips jerking awkwardly before sinking deep inside your cunt. Your walls were too numb from their abuse to truly feel his cock twitching and spilling his cum. 

The Force that had been pinning your wrists loosened, caressed down your forearms and faded away. You blinked slowly, let your breathing fall back into normalcy, raised one hand to rub at Kylo’s back. You stayed like that for a long moment, still joined and close despite the previous chaos.

Beeping. Muffled, almost distant with your mind still floating down from post-orgasmic haze, but beeping nonetheless. Kylo shifted, and you winced as his softening cock finally slid out. He lowered your legs back to the floor. He pulled away, taking a step back to look at you- surely still looking wrecked and well-fucked. The beeping returned, and Kylo tucked his cock away.

You slowly brought yourself up to sit, an ache already well-rooted in your lower abdomen- he’d certainly fucked you hard this time. As you pulled your own pant back up, ignoring Kylo’s cum already beginning to seep out of your body, Kylo retrieved his comlink from his robes. 

The previous calm contentment of his response was pushed aside, replaced with an uncertainty that did not sit right with you. “The Supreme Leader has called a meeting. To discuss the droid.” 

You nodded. Even though the answer felt obvious, you asked anyway. “Should I come with you?”

“No.” He slid the comlink back into his robes. “Go to our room. Rest.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering over the console he’d slashed. The sparking had died down and most of the molten metal had cooled, but the sight was just as savage. Something approaching an apology slid off his response- and he was gone, off to face the Supreme Leader.


	32. Camisado [Teen][SW:TFA]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starkiller fires, Kylo goes to Takodana, and everything goes to Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Contains:** Through the end of TFA. Suffering™.

Truthfully, the shower had felt better than you had expected it to. Your mind was fraying at the seams with all the excitement today- more action than you’d seen in several weeks _combined_. And then, of course- the physical stress you’d just endured including the slightly less than pleasant ache in your back where a particularly mean knob had made a home in your shoulder blade.

Under the hot spray you took time to clean yourself of Kylo’s mess- the mess that had slid down your thighs and stuck uncomfortably to the seat of your dark pants, surely staining the cloth. Even your own gentle, cautious touches with a wet cloth had you flinching, hissing through your teeth- your flesh was overly sensitive and raw. And though you wished to lean against the wall of the shower and let the water beat against your sore back, it was all too obvious that Kylo would be returning and you would once more be required by his side. 

You toweled off quickly and put on your previous uniform with a fresh pair of pants and underwear. The soiled pair you left for the cleaning droid. Now, however you had to wait. You settled cross legged on your bed, let your mind wander to Kylo’s- from the careful guarding he held about himself and the muted sense of obedience you guessed he was still with Leader Snoke. Best not to disturb him.

There wouldn’t be enough time to have any sort of decent meditation- so you stuck with a simple breathing exercise. Something to center yourself more conventionally after the mess this day was becoming. Something simple enough that even people who could not use the Force should be able to do. If you couldn’t meditate fully at least you could help yourself regenerate. You’d be needed again soon enough. 

 

Sure enough, only a few minutes later the door opened and closed in the other room. Kylo’s dark signature floating through the sitting room and closer, to the bedroom. His response was unsettled, murky and confused, concerned about something- but at least calmer than when you’d seen him before. You opened your eyes- met the dark transparisteel of his mask’s visor as he entered. 

“They’re going to use Starkiller. To destroy the Republic.” 

_Starkiller._ Something uneasy turned over in your stomach. A world-destroying weapon, capable of killing trillions- it had always seemed… like a last resort. A show of power, not something the Order would _actually_ use.

You swallowed, stared at him. “Are we going there?”

You tried not to consider exactly what would happen when something so massive and intimidating was shot at a planet- an entire _system_. Such a weapon would easily destroy itself; it wasn’t like there had been trial runs.

And then the Republic’s capital wasn’t exactly a military target. The Hosnian system was highly civilian- sure there _were_ military bases on those five planets, but- this was excessive, wasn’t it? You lowered your gaze, bit your lip, tried to justify this- you were at war after all. If the Supreme Leader ordered it, surely it must be necessary. 

“No. There’s been a sighting of the droid, I’m going there. After Starkiller fires.” He paused, looked away from you- his emotional response flicking back to his uncertainty on- something. “I. Need to meditate.” You looked up to Kylo’s mask again, now with a soft smile- quite content with the change of subject and the prospect of meditating with him once more. You startedto shift over on the bed, to give him room to sit beside you- “Alone.” 

“Oh.” You blinked, “Yeah, okay.” 

He stared at you a moment longer, before turning towards the locked door at the other side of the bedroom. “Go to the bridge, wait for me there.” 

You hesitated, wanted to protest that you could just wait for him here. But between his outburst earlier and his withdrawn, concerned emotional response, you decided against pushing it. At least not today. This day had been stressful enough. Only when Kylo was sure you were sliding off the bed and pulling your boots on, he opened the locked door- bypassing the keypad as he had the time before- and stepped into the dark room. 

His signature, even his emotional response was muffled in this room- strangely distant despite his actual proximity. You watched the plain durasteel door for a long moment, half expecting him to reemerge and explain both his odd special room and whatever reason he suddenly had to be alone. Kylo was by no means social or particularly skilled at interpersonal connections- but he rarely actively pushed you away. Why change now?

You shook your head. You had agreed to meet him at the bridge, though you weren’t sure why he needed you there, either. With a heavy sigh, you left your quarters.

 

 

Predictably, the bridge was buzzing with activity- a platoon was prepping for ground deployment with an accompanying TIE Fighter squadron. With the Knight of Ren overseeing this mission, the stakes had certainly been raised- failure would not be accepted twice. No amount of merciless fucking would resolve that anger, you suspected. 

At the helm was Brigadier General Torosian, a dark-skinned man with long, pale hair- you’d seen him briefly in the Stormtroopers meeting you had attended with Kylo. Not that you’d paid much attention then. You lingered in his mind for a time, careful not to pry too deeply as to distract him. It was quieter, just listening to one person. 

It was odd not having General Hux’s pristine thought processes at the bridge of the _Finalizer_ \- but Torosian was not an awful replacement. Hux had already set out in his shuttle to Starkiller. From the bits of memory you had caught from Hux’s mind, Starkiller had been his creation- he’d helped design it, had overseen its construction at every stage. Doubtless he’d want to watch its debut, and- even more doubtlessly- give a speech for such an event. 

Torosian was more chaotic, prone to following instinct. He had a weak spot for aesthetics, visual order, patterns. Unlike Hux, he was less anxious, less _overworked_ \- his mind not needing to skip around and balance a truly unrealistic number of tasks. He was, to say the least, a refreshing change of pace. Best, however, he seemed much more interested in his duties rather than thinking off-key insults towards Kylo or yourself. In fact, his only thoughts towards you were simply that he did not feel your Knight’s robes were the most battle appropriate attire.

You stood in front of the wall of viewports across the command center, careful to find a place where no personnel would need to be. From such a distance you could see the snowy white surface of Starkiller, the long, dark trench, and just barely the profile of the- well- barrel of the weapon. You couldn’t help but shiver. It was an impressive feat of engineering, you had to admit, but this still didn’t seem quite _right._

You felt him emerge from his room- his signature expanding out to its full size. Darker, still- and yet, no angrier than before. His response had returned to driven- the quiet if slightly arrogant power that made him so intimidating. 

Kylo hadn’t made it to the lifts when the transmission began- a holo at the back of the bridge displaying a close shot of Hux’s body and face, slightly pink and wind-chapped, his bright hair muted against the red drapery behind him. His voice, slightly distorted through the holochannel echoed through the bridge- starting as proper and restrained as you had expected of him. 

The collective mood of the bridge shifted as Kylo entered, coming to stand beside you at the end of the long walkway. You turned slightly towards him- gently pressed your mind to his in greeting. His cowl was off, leaving you with the particularly hard edges of the back of his helmet. Despite your nerves, you couldn’t help but sigh, relax into Kylo’s returning caress- brief, stiff, chased by the burning tips of his determination, but welcoming all the same.

You bit your lip, considered your phrasing, and whispered to him, _I’m not coming with you?_

Without any hesitation he thought back : _I cannot look after you._ You gave a single jerking nod, figuring that was why- but not quite easing the sting any less. He seemed to pause- tried to explain himself. _I cannot fail this time, y/n. And. This will be unpleasant._

 _What?_ You turned to him fully this time, tried to discern any further meaning from the blank profile of his mask. _The battle? It can’t possibly be worse than on Jakku._ Of course- you hadn’t seen much of a real battle, either. Just the... Well. The slaughter of a group of unarmed villagers. You shivered. Couldn’t be worse than that.

_No. Starkiller._

Your eyebrows drew up sharply, your own confusion so potent it filtered back to you through Kylo’s mind. Yes, Starkiller would be rather unpleasant to watch- to know that countless lives would be taken in the name of war.

No. It would be awful- your stomach flipping again at the thought. Trillions would die today by the hands of someone you’ve slept with. And- yet, it couldn’t possibly be worse than Jakku. You- weren’t on the same planet as them. You didn’t have to see them, hear their minds being quieted one by one over the roar of blaster fire.

Hux’s voice rose, his eyes wild, rabid- screaming his conclusion, _”Fire!”_

You looked back to the planet- the long fissure over the planet seemed to change, and then- the circle lit red. You held your breath. A long, red streak cutting through the blackness of space- looking almost slow from this distance and yet- you had no doubt of the impending destruction. Your eyes blurred- but you couldn’t look away.

The head of the beam split apart, separated out into individual projectiles- five. Five planets being destroyed in one moment. Too far for you to see the individual planets, you _felt_ the first beam hit.

All the life in the universe- the source of all parts of the Force- and now one part of it was snuffed out. Trillions of sentient lives gone- truly innumerable for all the life, the species lost. Your connection to the Force shifted, made you feel weak, an extraneous sense of vertigo rocking your mind- and then the other four beams connected. 

You leaned forward over, held onto the cold viewport to keep from falling over entirely. It felt as if the ship was spinning out of control- you touched your hand to your face, moving to cover your mouth. You felt- tired, suddenly exhausted- sick, tears stinging at your eyes and pouring over your cheeks.

Fingertips brushed over your back, _I have to go._

You knew you were nodding, yet you couldn’t quite process the sensation. _Okay._ You swallowed, tried to discern if you were shaking. _Okay. Be safe. Please._

You couldn’t feel Kylo’s sincere appreciation, the continuous little reminder that someone cared that he made it back from battle, your mind too busy swimming in the onslaught. You felt his hand stroke more firmly across your back- a brief show of comfort- and heard his boots on the floor as he left.

 

You returned to your quarters when you were sure you could walk, before Kylo’s quickly increasing distance could further destroy your higher functioning. Too much work to even take off your boots, you decided near immediately, you collapsed on the bed- only weakly able to press your face into a pillow. It was- wrong. The whole world. Not just your connection to the Force, but… Starkiller. Five planets. 

You pressed the heels of you palms against your eyes until phosphenes danced behind your eyelids, focused on that pressure. You couldn’t help but wonder, if Kylo was stronger with the Force- did he feel this twisting pain more acutely or could he block it better? 

You groaned miserably, it made no difference. You weren’t there, they were on the opposite side of a war, that’s all. But- how could Kylo be so jaded to _that_ much death? One village’s loss to keep a secret against an entire system teeming with life? And you- that version of you that danced on a battlefield, slicing through enemies without a second thought- could you become that? Did you even _want to?_

No, no, no- you couldn’t think about this now. Not today. Real things- that’s what you needed to focus on. Real world, immediately physical things, just as you had before. The smooth, soft fabric of the sheets, pillowcases, blankets. Cool, recycled starship air, blowing gently through the venting system. You held your breath- felt the far-off vibrations of the ship’s engines humming along. 

You quieted your mind, silenced your connection to the Force. If you were truly to become any sort of decent Knight you couldn’t lose yourself every time you were apart from Kylo or were around death. If this was to be your destiny- you would have to accept such things. It wasn’t healthy to have that sort of stress. But not today. Today, you laid face-down on a pillow and counted your breaths.

The seam along the edge of the pillowcase kept your empty thoughts occupied while you waited. 

 

 

You woke suddenly- rolling and jerking to sit up in the bed. Alarm was pulling anxiety through you, illogical surety that something awful was coming. On instinct- you reached for him, first physically. When your hand found nothing but a rumpled pillow, you sought him with your mind. 

Kylo was closer than when you had passed out. At first, your panic was lessened for his perceived proximity. And then- you realized the source of your alarm. Kylo. Something was _wrong._

Worry. Fear. Your need for Kylo’s safety channeled hard into your connection with him, revived your bond. You pressed hard into his mind- and found no resistance. Not on your side; all his shielding had been shifted, trying, desperately, to keep something else out. And-

A lightning flash through his walls, latching on and taking root- someone digging into _his_ mind. Cold shocking fear gripped your heart- who? Who could be searching _Kylo’s_ mind who was- strong enough for that? Your throat closed, terror pulling tears from your eyes. And there was nothing you could do. If he was near you at least- at least you could try something, _anything_ to help. But like this- thousands of miles away, feeling Kylo’s struggle second hand, feel him losing-

_Kylo?_

The connection shattered. 

Your fingers twisted into the sheets and you prayed to any higher being in the universe that you hadn’t just ruined something.

 

 

Time, the physical world, anything at all meant nothing to you, until your hands with wrapped firmly into the crisp, starched fabric of an officer’s uniform- and shoved him, held him there, the question leaving your mouth before you could even question it yourself.“What _happened.”_

Torosian’s eyes had grown so side it would have been comical if you could focus on anything beside the fear and anger and raw passion burning hot through you. “Wh-what are you--?”

“The mission with Kylo Ren.” You pressed him harder against the wall, caught his wince. “To capture the droid. The report should be in by now. What happened.” 

“He- didn’t bring back a droid. Just some prisoner, a girl. Real scrappy looking. Took her to Starkiller to interrogate her.” 

No. There’s no way. Torosian shuffled in place as your grip loosened. “A girl?”

“Yeah, initial reports say it’s the same girl as on Jakku.” Torosian’s emotional response flipped from fear to disgust, “Considering what her physical state was described as, she’d have to come from some place as awful as that planet.” 

What did you do now? Kylo had gone on to retrieve the droid alone because you would- distract him, but did that still apply? Would you… do even more harm if you went to him…? 

Torosian brushed your hands off, tried to straighten out some of the wrinkles you’d left in his otherwise pristine uniform. “What’s this about, anyway? Ren said the girl was as good as the droid.”

You prodded gently at your connection with Kylo- tried to feel him at all, any sense of his well being at all. Nothing. Still. Your teeth sunk into your cheek, the confidence you’d had drained away as quickly as it had appeared. But- you couldn’t just do nothing. You had to _try._

“I need a shuttle to Starkiller.” 

Torosian’s eyebrows- pale, plucked, and thick, you noticed- rose sharply. Disbelief, shock radiated from his emotional response and somehow- _Now? Really? Why?_ \- “Ssssure.” He tilted his head, shrugged. “There’s probably a supply shuttle that can take you, but you’ll probably have to wait. They’re charging it again, so they kinda want to keep everyone out of the way.” 

You went rigid. “Wait. They’re charging Starkiller again? What for?”

Torosian shrugged, blase to the implication- another system slated for destruction. “Ileenium system; there’s a Resistance base. Recon ships--” 

First, his commlink beeped- then _yours._ Torosian pulled his from his uniform and- panic. “Oh, _fuck,”_ The ship’s Klaxons started blaring again. “They’re here.”

 

 

You followed Torosian through the ship- keeping pace as he sprinted, horrified enough to not notice his officer’s cap falling off three halls back. The bridge was swarming, the incessant buzz of hundreds of minds moving about their battlestation tasks making your head ache already. Torosian first caught himself at the viewport. 

At first- you could only see the glorious, if not horrific view of a long pillar of fire being pulled into the weapon’s core- and then, specs of light over the base itself. Explosions. A battle, for Starkiller itself. 

_“Yes,_ all squadrons! We protect Starkiller at all costs!” Torosian barked, moving through the officers with practiced ease- authoritative. More aggressive, less precise than Hux- slightly comforting to listen to compared to the adrenaline-fueled haze of the officers around him. 

He circled through the bridge again- his white hair falling in front of his face, only being mussed up more as he ran a hand through it. “Brigadier,” You stepped towards him, “What can I do?”

His gaze snapped to you, intense and volatile. “Just stay out of the way. You Knights are only good on the ground- ship-to-ship is our domain.” He turned away- his thoughts already turning to more important matters.

That was it. Months of training and- you were still so _useless._

No. You could still try and support Kylo, somehow. You swallowed your fear. You couldn’t fight. You couldn’t leave the ship. All you had to rely on was your connection to the Force- to Kylo. 

The bridge was too busy, too worked up to think clearly- you left. Moved through the hallways unseen, personnel to concerned with the ensuing battle to question why Lord Ren’s apprentice was wandering about alone. You slid into a quiet hallway, and sunk to the floor.

You leaned your head back against the wall, let your hands rest in your lap. This was all you had- any assistance you could give to Kylo at all. Anything- anything he needed you’d try. Through the lurking sickness you focused your thoughts- your power. Summoned that burning need again- that anger that could fuel you for days. 

And you reached for him. And this time, he was there. Your connection was weak at best; but you _felt_ him. His emotional response was faint, horribly distant- but there all the same. Tense, anxious. Almost- scared. But physically fine. 

In the real world you nearly sobbed- but you couldn’t get sidetracked by that now. For the little you could feel- you don’t think he can feel you. Or, rather, he knows you’re on the _Finalizer,_ he knows he could reach out to you if he wanted or- needed to, but he doesn’t. This mission must come first. Complete the objective. Direct, straightforward. If only he could give you that simple instruction on what to do- how to help most effectively.

You reached further- stretched yourself thin to try- just to try and catch his attention. But- his response shifted, dropped. Melancholy, a simmering loathing, familiarity. Why- you pushed farther- some hot ran over your lip. Your hand felt heavy- the ridges of his saber’s hilt ghosting over your palm. Was he in a fight…?

The emotional pain lurked for a long moment- shimmering and twisted. And- something snapped- his need to complete something important. His saber ignited- your face felt hot, iron washing over your tongue. 

First was relief passing from his mind into yours, nearly as bright and thick as if he was in the room with you. He’d done it. And then- grief, overwhelming coupled with the immediate regret. What the fuck- what was going on down there? You tried to whisper it to him- to pass your confusion to him. You think you got through for just a moment- just a flicker of recognition. _Kylo-_

Pain. Exploding through your body, needle-sharp and deep to the bone. You cried out and gasped, choked, coughed through the blood in your mouth- your body curling up, hands grabbing at your side. You dug one hand through your robes, tried to find the wound-- nothing. Your skin was untouched. Blood dripped off your chin into your lap.

You touched your face- fingertips coming away cherry red. A nose bleed- that’s all? The phantom pain receded as you held your side-- you _knew_ you were uninjured, and therefore- 

Your head dropped back- trying to grab whatever tendril of connection you had held onto before. An ache settled behind your eye socket, not _now_ \- cut your power short. How. No, no, no- you _had_ to. He’d been hurt- you had to help him… You reached for him again, tried to spin the splintered, fraying edges of your power into something more solid- something you could _use._

A fresh trail of blood poured from your nose as you reached, stretched- nearly tore yourself at the seams to feel him again. You couldn’t hold the connection to him- it fluttered in and out of your control, brief half-feelings passing to you. A coldness. His burning rage. He was running on adrenaline now, his injury and whatever- had _happened_ weighing him down. 

He was in a fight. That was all you could tell- before, you gasped and- held fast against Kylo’s mind this time. Pain would not drive you away this time. A burning cut through your arm- nothing like the hit he’d taken before. Kylo was shocked for only a moment- and the driven rage returned. 

You bit through the echoing pain, trying to hold onto him. Kylo’s mind settled for a moment- the pain seeming to quiet at the rest. The fighting resumed just as quickly- harsher. For- for a moment something was _wrong_ again- a distorted sense of guilt touching at your mind for a moment. _You need a teacher._

Then- more pain. A glancing blow, more burning along your left leg. A stab at your left shoulder. And- You gasped, let go of his mind in shock. You grabbed at your face- already knowing you wouldn’t find any injury. But- the burning heat of the blade, slicing through your shoulder, your _face_. Kylo…

You fought find him again- to focus your thoughts back on his mind, on your connection. The pain, the stress was too much, the sickness still roiling in your stomach took control of you. No. You wouldn’t be able to reach him; you were too weak. You’d already overexerted yourself judging from the blood dripping from your nose. Whatever was going on down there- you were of no use now. 

You struggled to stand, supported yourself with the wall. Your side ached, your head hurt, a ghost line of pain cut over your cheek. Blood was staining your robes. A long inhale, hold it, a slow exhale. Get it together. You wiped your face on your sleeve, mopped up as much as you could. 

You tried to walk- stumbled, caught yourself on your knees. You tried again- fought your way back to the bridge. It was- quieter. Their minds no longer beating a cacophony into your skull, just distant whispers. Too far, too quiet to differentiate. Even their most basic information- just, just their emotional response was muted. 

You moved to the viewports- held yourself up against the transparisteel. Starkiller was burning, a massive portion of the base lit up- burning. The star it had been draining was gone- it should’ve fired by now, but, you supposed. Nothing was quite going as it should today. 

Dark lines appeared over the surface- you squinted. You couldn’t be losing your vision too- you needed to stay conscious. But no, red, molten rock rose from the fissures. Starkiller was falling apart. The power within it was as you had feared- it crumbled, burned.

Your head thumped against the transparisteel, your reflection as worn as you’d expected- pink staining over your lips and chin. At least your nose had stopped bleeding. You felt sick, tired. All you could do was tell yourself that Kylo had been through- a lot. Worse, probably. He was strong, he could take care of himself. He wouldn’t- wouldn’t get stuck on an exploding planet, he could fly a ship.

You closed your eyes. You didn’t even have to reach for the conclusion- the Force itself was echoing the knowledge through to you. Or- was it just intuition? This planet would be destroyed soon- very soon. He- he has to leave. 

“Get those sublights running, Torres,” Torosian’s voice broke through, so strangely bland now- “Move out- mark 40.3, we need distance between us and that planet. Jennaria, get me eyes on their shuttle.” 

You voice came out hoarse, half-broken. “Shuttle?”

Torosian’s eyes flicked to you and- it was strange not knowing exactly what he was thinking. So quiet. “Shortwave picked up a transmission- General Hux and Kylo Ren are aboard the Command Shuttle, they’re attempting to leave the planet’s atmosphere.”

You huffed a laugh- a bitter joy bringing tears to your eyes. Yes- yes he’d get off the planet. He’d-

The viewport went white- then red. 

Everything tilted from beneath you, your knees too weak to support you; you went down. Your nose cracked on the console- the cold durasteel of the floor hitting hard on your knees, elbows. At least the gravgen wasn’t broken, you thought somehow. And then- you felt the ship shudder, the lights flickering- two screens across the room flashing red, then four more. Alarms across the ship going off, sensors and systems ringing out errors and checking damages. 

“Kriffing Hells, get us level!” You lifted your head, watched Torosian half climb the floor, holding onto one of the isolated consoles at the rear of the bridge- three separate voices responding immediately with a “Yes, sir!”

The ship shifted, the floor resituating itself beneath your hands. You pulled yourself upright- vertigo almost pulling you back down. Exhaustion tempted you to lie down- to accept passing out on the bridge’s floor. You couldn’t- not yet. Kylo- Kylo was hurt, too. Much worse than you.

“Sir, Command Shuttle at 29.0.” A woman announced- her emotional response filtering by you weakly- her leg had caught the corner of her station when the _Finalizer_ tilted and she was still hurting. Your head spun and you held tight to the console. “It looks disabled. Probably caught the blastwave from Starkiller too.”

“Good, lock onto it and bring it in.” Torosian moved to her console- watched her screen as she worked her controls. 

“Yes sir, locking on; preparing to pull them into the starboard docking bay.” 

The docking bay- you needed to be there when Kylo got off. If your body still hurt you didn’t notice- your concentration was quickly shrinking down to making sure Kylo was okay, seeing the damage yourself. If- if it was serious you needed to be there. You stumbled through the hallways- leaning on the wall in the lift down to the hangar. 

The hangar bay was a mess- damaged, but not destroyed TIE Fighters were half-docked, their pilots lying on the floor or staring at their ships. A medical droid was attending to one pilot’s injuries. You watched, entranced as the Command Shuttle was brought to the doors. 

The underside and all of the port wing were scratched to Hell; the wings not symmetrical- the port wing lower than the starboard; the starboard secondary wing was bent, unable to descend to its resting position properly. 

The shuttle’s landing gear didn’t deploy- letting the craft clatter to the flooring. Everyone in the hangar stared at the looming black ship, watched as its engines vented but its ramp did not lower.

The hangar’s shielding slid out- clicking each plate into the place before the _Finalizer’s_ engines shuddered, fighting to carry the ship away from the remains of Starkiller.

The shuttle’s ramp clicked, dropping and extending. You stepped forward for a moment- an officer stumbled down into the hangar from the ruined ship, “Get a stretcher and a medic!”

You held your breath- couldn’t move. Someone was hurt- it couldn’t be Kylo. But you couldn’t go to see- could only watch as two ‘troopers brought over the floating bed and delivered it into the ship. 

Your hand covered your mouth, fought to inhale. The ‘troopers returned- jogging to push the stretcher to the lift- to get him to the medbay. Oh, stars he looked- you found your voice, “W-wait!” 

The ‘troopers exchanged glances but held the door for you- you couldn’t be away from him now- not like this. 

He was, delirious. Pale. Blood loss, you suspected, considering deep red stain over his abdomen, the shredded remains of his armor mixing with the dark red of his injuries. And yet- worse still- You thought of his hands around your neck, his pleading for forgiveness in a vividly green forest. The slash from his arm to his forehead. The same scar he’d had in your visions.


	33. Agony [Explicit]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo's injuries are deep and more numerous than the physical. There's only so much you can do for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _trigger warning for self harm;_ skip to the end of the chapter for clarification!
> 
>  **Contains:** blood, injuries  & care, bloodplay, angst
> 
> probably dubcon due to lack of clarity of mind + lingering drug effects + minor resistance

His hand was clammy in yours, too cool for how warm he usually was with his long arms wrapped around you. You stared at him, his unmoving, serene face- and blinked slowly, your eyelids fighting to open again. Sleep had come intermittently, just short bursts of unconsciousness when exhaustion proved stronger than your will to watch over him. Even then, your sleep was interrupted by your anxious need to check on Kylo, driving you to wake up abruptly- to squeeze his hand perhaps a little too tightly. Worse was the occasional creeping connection with him- bits of his pain eking into your mind, snapping you from your sleep and making you watch Kylo sleep through it.

Though, perhaps, sleep was not the best way to describe it. 

Strong sedation was a better explanation. Kylo had been conscious in the med bay just long enough to destroy the droid that tried to administer painkillers to him- his voice was rasping, grating against the clinical noise of the medbay. _“No- no painkillers,”_ It would- interfere with his connection to the Force, he whispered to your mind- halfway slipping into unconsciousness again. “Quarters. Not, not medbay.” 

So, sedation was the only thing that could be done. Keep him unconscious as long as possible for his body to heal. Despite your own dragging tiredness, you kept a careful watch on Kylo’s mind, tried to shush him when he fought to wake. Consciousness would do him no good just yet. You stroked your thumb over his knuckles, laid your head down on your arm- accepting the need for another nap. 

You were so tired- so focused on protecting Kylo- you didn’t hear your own door opening, didn’t hear the measured, even rhythm of his boots on the floor. 

“How is he?” You blinked, lifted your head again. Hux’s uniform had been replaced already, but his greatcoat had not- still dirty and if you looked a little too closely, you suspected you’d see bloodstains around the cuffs. His hair had been reaffixed in its normal, cleanly combed state. But he was tired, the beginnings of bags forming under his eyes. His emotional response was distant, sorting through things in a pristine orderly fashion. This was just something else on his to-do list, preparing for whatever came next. And yet-

You looked back to Kylo, considered your answer. “Droids say he was out on the planet’s surface a while. Hypothermia was starting to set in.” Kylo’s pale chest shuddered as it rose, expanding against the bandages around his middle. “Burns were mostly superficial, but they’ll need time to heal.” You sighed, rubbed at your face, tried to wake up yourself. “The one on his face could’ve been really bad- just missed his eye. The real problem is the wound on his side, the doctor said it went deep.” 

Hux snorted derisively, his response immediately flicking to irritation. “Ren should be in the medbay with all the other injured personnel, if his condition is really that serious.”

You shook your head, yawned. “He wanted to be here.” You weren’t about to fight Kylo while he was in this condition. He- he’d been in more battles like this than you. And though you suspected his desire to stay in his quarters had more to do with his privacy and pride than his actual well being, he seemed emotionally compromised enough already.

Hux stepped closer, his emotional response finally piecing together in your mind. Underneath all his clean, objective thoughts he was actually _concerned._ “Then you need to sleep. I somehow doubt Ren will be _rational_ when he wakes.” You couldn’t help but huff a laugh at that understatement. “He’ll have to be calmed down; you should be well-rested before that.” 

You looked to him- tried to bring yourself to look deeper into his mind, to decipher any further meaning or exactly what he thought Kylo would be like when he woke. Either he’d grown too used to blocking yours and Kylo’s gentle prying and was keeping you out or you were simply too tired to pick at the layers of his mind. Either way, you couldn’t seem to read past his basic response; concern, his methodical and distant planning, a touch of hurt on his pride. You shook your head, brought yourself to the physical world again. “I can’t. I have to be awake- I don’t want…” You sighed. “I need to be here if he wakes up. After all, he might be _irrational.”_

Hux snorted, motioned to the wide bed. “It’s not as if you’ll be far.” 

Even with Kylo situated in the middle of the wide bed, there was more than enough room for you to curl up beside him. That- sounded very nice. But you couldn’t rest you head on him as you had before- both his shoulders were injured. As was his side. And what if you rolled over in your sleep? What if you reached for him- grabbed at or hit one of his wounds…? You winced, “I might hurt him in my sleep.”

Neither of you spoke for a long moment, just watching Kylo sleep- his slow breathing, how relaxed he looked despite the extent of his injuries. You sighed, leaned back in your chair- rolled your neck, stretched your arms. Hux met your eyes briefly as you spoke, “So. What now?”

“The Supreme Leader has ordered me to deliver Ren to him for further training. After that,” His response roiled, shifted- he crossed his arms, a scowl pulling at his mouth. “I don’t know. I suspect I will not be the commanding officer of this ship.” 

“What? Why?”

He snarled, his response rippling with anger- directed inward. “Ren is not the only person who failed today. Starkiller cost trillions of credits- thousands of man-hours and millions of tons in physical resources. It will take years to recover.” You grasped a single, fleeting thought: _I’ll be killed for this._

You stared at him, wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, or Kylo’s. But you honestly didn’t know. The exact events on Starkiller were still unknown to you- all you knew was what little you had felt through Kylo’s mind- the fight, his pain- and that Hux had just barely dragged Kylo’s unconscious body back onto the Command Shuttle before the whole planet had been destroyed. But asking Hux for the details didn’t seem… prudent. And, really, you needed to know what had happened with Kylo _before_ Hux found him.

Hux sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Notify me when he wakes. I need to speak with him before we arrive at Snoke’s base.”

You nodded, didn’t watch him as he left. Kylo exhaled slowly, his eyelids fluttering for a moment, dreaming you supposed. Sleep- was probably a good idea. Just another nap. You brushed your thumb over his knuckles again and laid your head down on the mattress. You closed your eyes, fell asleep to the sound of Kylo’s breathing.

 

His hand slipped out of yours, pawed at your face- flopping, rubbing blindly. “Y/n.” He rasped. His response filled your mind- joyous, crazed manic glee. You blinked, lifted your head, your mind fuzzed with sleep. “I did it,” Kylo _laughed_ “I did it- I killed him,” 

“Kylo?” He tried to sit up- winced for a moment and fell back. His hand grabbed at your wrist- tugged you closer, closer still until he had you sitting on the bed with him. His eyes were wide, his mouth curled in a grin, pulling harshly at the tender skin of his wound-- the bandages over his face turning red over his cheek- you winced- reached for them. “You’re,”

His hand caught your jaw- brought you down to his lips, his grip keeping you there, his fingers digging into your skin. His lips moved against yours with a hot fervor- trying, fighting to incite the same passions in you.

You fought to pull away- get distance between you again, try and talk sense into Kylo, calm him down. Kylo growled against your lips, tangled his fingers in your hair- twisted sharply and you gasped. His tongue slid into your mouth, licked at the roof of your mouth, slid behind your teeth. You shivered, ignored the way your body reacted- now wasn’t the time. 

You reached for his mind- whispered your hesitancy to him. But his end of your bond was frayed, saturated with swirling emotions, spinning rapidly between joy and grief. He heard your quiet request- and responded in turn. He caught your lower lip between his teeth and sucked hard, drew his tongue over it.

His Force signature was strange- this odd, unstable mixture of grays, visible even with your eyes closed. You saw as he reached for you with the Force- kept his left hand buried in your hair, holding your mouth to his- the tendril wrapped around your thigh- and pulled you over him. 

You whimpered against his mouth, ground down on his hard cock on instinct. With the blaster wound on his side so low he wore nothing under the sheet on your bed- you felt his cock twitch in response, his hips lifting and pressing against you in turn. You were still so sore, but this- you didn’t understand. 

But you felt it. Whatever part of your mind you had used to keep yourself mended together, running on fumes for the past day broke down, all the stress and pain came pouring from you at once. Fear shuddered through your body, followed by the hot flood of relief. Everything felt too real, overwhelming. You understood Kylo’s churning response. You needed it, too. 

You kissed Kylo back, tangled on hand into his hair, gently holding his uninjured cheek with the other. _I was so scared,_ you whispered to him, kissed him harder, welcomed his tongue back into your mouth. _I could’ve lost you…_

Kylo’s hand loosened in your hair, moving down to your robes- tugging and pawing at the dark cloth of the ties. That was how you noticed it- how ineffective he was at taking off your clothes. Even with being injured, half-drugged, and riding whatever emotional high Starkiller had left in him- it shouldn’t be that difficult. 

You glanced down, his single pale hand working at your belt. The right hand- his right _arm_ painfully still on the sheets.

You pulled away from him, sitting back on your heels. You took his right hand in yours, rubbing at his palm, his wrist, fingers, anything. Grief slid from his mind, his gaze dropped, stared blankly at his own hand. You rubbed your hand up his arm- watched his face for any reaction. Nothing. You slid over his elbow, up his bicep. Even the shallow wound over his arm didn’t bother him as you touched it. 

Your breath caught in your throat, tears catching in your eyes. _We need to get the medic, Kylo…_

“No,” He bit out, his voice still rough, his lip rising in a sneer. His pain, anger returning to the front of his mind. Whatever hesitancy he’d had before vanished- Kylo fully sat up, his face suddenly close to yours again. You felt his mind holding your legs down- keeping you close to him. “No, need you-” 

His lips caught yours- his hand, his _working_ hand caught your hip. A shadow of his Force power held the other side of your hips and together he ground you down on his cock again, drove you to rut against him in short, sharp jerks- shifting and pulling you to catch deliciously on your stiffening clit. 

You moaned against him, whined for the pleasure and worked at getting your clothes off. You didn’t get very far. Just enough to wiggle your pants down your legs- awkwardly having to move over Kylo- if you hit any of his wounds he didn’t seem bothered. Kylo pushed the sheets down around his thighs, immediately rubbing his cock against your cunt. 

You wasted no time- you left your coats on, sprawling around you on the bed, covering your hips as you settled over him. Kylo helped to support you with the Force while you teased the head of his cock with your clit for a moment, just to spread your slick arousal around. When you let him nudge inside you, you couldn’t help but wince, even if you enjoyed sinking down onto his cock, letting him spread you open and fill you up once more.

Kylo moaned, shuddered beneath you. He kept his hand on your hip, forced you to grind down again his pelvis- to rub your clit against his body. He propped his good leg up, gave himself just enough leverage to half thrust up into you, his angle askew with his other thigh still injured. You sighed- leaned back and let the head of his cock rub against the sensitive spot along you front wall- felt how stretched and full you felt around him. 

Kylo panted, dropped his head to your shoulder. You slung your arms around Kylo’s neck- catching on the bandages over the slash across his face. The bottom edge came unstuck from Kylo’s skin, dangling and flopping in time with your grinding. Kylo grabbed at the bandage- pulled it free entirely- threw it to the floor.

Pale half-absorbed spots of bacta still dotted his face, the skin was still bright red with recently closed scabs, taut and shiny even in the low light. It was a relatively clean wound, one long strike across his body. It was the same wound- the same scar you’d seen in your dreams- in the forest, on the battlefield. Blood leaked from where it had reopened, slow sliding drops over his cheek. Tears burned at your eyes, ran over your cheeks. You kissed him, ran your fingers through his hair, sobbed against his lips. 

_You could’ve died…_ You whispered to him again, tasted his tongue, worked your clit against his body. 

His lips left yours, nipping hard at your neck, suckling a dark spot- whispering against you, half to himself. “I killed him- I finally did it.” His hair covered your face as he nuzzled against your jaw, your shoulder- you felt it when his wound opened again. Hot blood streaking down his face more aggressively, smearing over robes, dripping onto your thighs. 

The smell of iron made you shudder, clench around his cock. Kylo leaned away, stared at you. The cut had opened over his cheek, now painting half his face dark red. You caught his mouth in another kiss, tasted the blood on his lips. Kylo’s hand moved closer- his thumb dragging over the wet blood along your thighs, brought it up to your clit. He rubbed at the top, over the hood while your rutting dragged along the underside. You shivered, moaned- dug your nails into Kylo’s shoulders as you shook, worked yourself through the heights of your pleasure- fighting to pull Kylo over the edge with you. 

Kylo whimpered, his thoughts pressing loudly into your mind, _why didn’t it work, i did everything, why wont it stop-_ his internal voice silencing, driven out by the white pleasure of Kylo’s orgasm, his cock twitched inside you, spilling his cum deep inside your body. 

You kept your foreheads pressed together, panting in the gentle descent. You held Kylo’s gaze, something unspoken- aloud or between your minds- passing between you. A moment of… mourning, of a misshapen grief for whatever this- this disaster had taken from you. 

“I killed my father,” His voice barely a whisper, nearly inaudible in the quiet room. You froze, swallowed thickly. You- Unsure of what you could say or how to even comfort him, you ran your hand through his hair. Kylo flinched, his hand sliding away from your hips, from your sensitive clit. “I. Think I tore something,” 

His gaze dropped to his side, to the wide bands of bandages wrapped around his body. The once white bandages were being soaked through with scarlet blood- fresh. You swallowed, stared. No, no- that had to just be, transfer- from his face… Kylo’s hand pressed against the wound- and his body fell back against the bed. His emotional response became white noise, fluttering through pain and basic physical sensation.

“Fuck,” You scrambled off him, wincing as his softening cock slid free- his cum already starting to drip down your thighs. You dug through your robes for your commlink, fumbling and calling Hux in your panic. 

 

 

If General Hux and the doctor- a gray-haired man named _Isa_ who still wore red, old-fashioned _glass_ spectacles- minded Kylo’s disheveled, sex-mussed state (including his soft cock, still shining with your mixed cum), neither said anything. Hux, for his part, lingered by the door- irritation at _more_ waiting on Ren’s condition. Isa was painfully respectful, speaking quietly and keeping his eyes only on the wound he inspected.

You couldn’t help but stare as the doctor unwrapped each wound- peeling away layers of dark, blood-stained cloth. You cringed, ached to touch him as each bit of ragged skin was revealed to you. Isa changed his bandages, slathering a fresh layer of bacta with each new bandage.

The shallow cuts along his arm, shoulder, and thigh were easily cleaned- only reopened in small areas that closed again with fresh bacta on them. His bowcaster wound, however…

You covered your mouth with a hand as the bandages were removed and- a near crater of flesh was missing from Kylo’s side- the impact spreading little arms of burns up and down his torso- half already healed and scarring. Even around that were sick, deep purple and black bruises, reaching all the way to his belly. The stitches that had closed the worst of the wound were what had reopened in your reckless, emotional fucking.

Kylo’s lip lifted in a brief snarl, but made no comment as Isa restitched the wound, Kylo’s response only shifting through anger pointed at himself. The occasional brush of grief slipped to his mind- and was quickly smothered. Whatever had happened with- with his _father_ could wait until you could talk about it. 

Isa calmly reached for the cut over Kylo’s face, still slowly dripping blood over his cheek- and recoiled as Kylo smacked his hand away. “Enough. My arm.”

The doctor considered that for a moment, but dutifully took up Kylo’s right arm. You glanced to Hux- found his response wrought with anxiety. As much as Hux hated Kylo, Hux had to admit he was at least a valuable asset to the Order. Hux feared execution- or worse, humiliation- in light of his failure. But he was nearly as concerned about Kylos _training._

And truthfully, so were you. Something did not sit right with that- Kylo, the Master of the Knights, was receiving more training. From what you knew of the rest of the Knights- you doubted training was the right word for what the Supreme Leader planned. Punishment was a more apt phrase, you suspected.

Isa stroked at Kylo’s hand, tapped- even pricked the edge of Kylo’s fingers with a needle. He even tried to coax Kylo into flexing his fingers- “Anything at all, just a little movement…” to no avail. The doctor sighed, rubbed at the bridge of his nose. This time he worked his fingers up the length of Kylo’s arm, tenderly avoiding the shallow cut along his bicep- and finding where the numbness started. The long slash that cut his face and shoulder.

Isa stepped away, tapped something out on his datapad. “The nerves are damaged quite severely, possibly severed, Lord Ren.” The doctor spoke, adjusted his glasses. “The cut seems to have struck at the branches of the _brachial plexus_ and disabled your arm.”

Kylo stared blankly at the far wall, his good hand protectively holding his right arm. You felt the pressure between his teeth, the growing need to grind them- to scream and destroy something. He was quite aware his arm was _disabled,_ but he ground out: “Fix it.”

The doctor tilted his head, tapped at his datapad again. “The nerves can possibly be repaired, but even with our technology it will take several weeks to regrow the nerves, place them, connect them. We can start growing them-” 

“I don’t have weeks.” Kylo’s fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. He stared at the doctor, dared him to speak against his wishes. “I need it fixed _now.”_

The doctor’s mouth hung open for a long moment, his emotional response throwing a genuine astonishment and curiosity to the front of his mind. “I’m sorry, my Lord, but- we don’t have the capabilities for that. The only thing that could be done so quickly is a prosthetic, but considering your situation I don’t see that as viable.”

“What situation?” 

“Your refusal of painkillers; the installation and nerve connections are extremely painful.” He replied, an odd amusement filtering through his voice, “But really having your own, organic limb still attached is the real disqualifier. It’s... frowned upon for doctors to amputate limbs unnecessarily.”

The irritation off Kylo’s response shifted, something of a plan forming in his mind. “Unnecessarily.” Kylo repeated, biting the word out. A hard resolve formed in his mind, the knowledge that- beyond all else- he’d certainly deserved worse. He couldn’t stand before his master and be incapable of training. “I cannot wait weeks. Fine.” 

You felt his full plan for only a moment before he acted. You reached out to stop him, opened your mouth, started to speak-- His good hand shot off to his side- a long, thick tendril of obsidian power reached past you to the nightstand, curled around his saber's, pulled it to him. His thumb caught the ignition plate, the room lighting up red. You felt just a moment of his hesitation, the awkwardness of holding his sword in his non-dominant hand. And blade hissed to life- Kylo’s arm already swinging.

Pain echoed through you, brought tears to your eyes- grabbed at your own shoulder. You heard the distant thud of- of _something_ dropping to the bed, of Kylo’s ragged gasp. The blades of the saber fizzled out and it, too was dropped. 

Hux was screaming into his commlink, his panic flooding through your mind, overwriting Kylo’s pain for a short moment. _“Get the kriffing medics to Ren’s rooms now!”_ and the deep, searing pain bleached your thoughts of anything beyond the sensory.

 

 

The medbay reeked of chemicals overlaying the sharp scent of bacta. You laid your head down on the mattress, held his hand once more. The cold saline coming from his IV was chilling his hand, but at least he didn’t seem to mind just yet. Kylo’s mind had quieted again much to your relief, only whispering of the pain in his shoulder, his _arm._

With your overworked mind you had tried to do everything you could to comfort him while they had worked on him. Even highly sedated some part of him remained conscious- aware of what was happening- the pure physical sensation spiking through his mind and into yours. 

So you held him- for as long as you could. Pictured stroking his hair and talking with him about languages, about your old desk job. He shook each time a nerve was connected to the cybernetic, his arm jerking. Kylo’s residual self image still had his real arm which only proved more jarring as you slipped in and out of Kylo’s dreams.

In all, it took five hours between dragging Kylo to the medbay and the last nerve being connected. It would still need to be tested- but not yet. For now, Kylo slept.

Perhaps you should be thankful the Order had access to advanced cybernetics. When the synthskin would be applied it would look nearly real- at least, that’s what Isa had told you. For now it rested limply against the basic white sheets and- you could hardly believe it as connected to him. It didn’t feel real. Truthfully, it was a highly advanced limb, sleek metal plating over the delicate servos that replicated human muscle. It was odd- just looking at it. The robotic arm’s hand had slightly longer fingers, the shape of the fake muscles did not match the real shape of Kylo’s left arm. 

You didn’t think of what would happen with Snoke- what would make Kylo prefer to- to do _this_ rather than arrive injured. Was- was that sort of commitment expected of all the Knights? You couldn’t bear to think of that just yet, there was- too much that had happened. 

You sighed, pressed a kiss to the back of Kylo’s hand, below the IV. A vicious scar you’d seen in your dreams and a cybernetic arm. At least- at least the others would eventually just become pale, pink little things. One of the dozens that littered Kylo’s skin. 

The scar on his face- why had you seen that twice, but not his arm? Wasn’t- that the more important event? Kylo had only noticed a few changes in his own visions- had he not seen this either? You closed your eyes and sighed. He had seen that he would wear a different mask- and now his previous mask had been destroyed with Starkiller. But he’d- also seen your saber. _You_ had seen your saber. 

The details were blurred, lost to the vision- but was a lightsaber. You had built it. Your own weapon. 

The future- felt so far away. So _fake._ You’d dreamed of some- some idyllic world where you killed- brutally, _vividly_ without hesitation and of a nightmare where Kylo was forced to kill you. This- couldn’t be it. That can’t be your only option. There had to be more. There had to be something, some- some life between those.

And yet- you could feel it already. A long, thin metal cylinder heavy in your hand- ridges for the powerpacks below the textured grip. You’d made every inch of it, every single part was of your own design- a weapon fitting a Knight. You shuddered- hot tears pricking at your eyes. You held Kylo’s hand tighter, focused on the lingering warmth of his hand- of his slow, even pulse. Anything except the easy click of the activation plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _trigger warning for self harm;_ In a fit of rage, knowing that he cannot arrive to Snoke's lair injured, Kylo cuts off his own arm for it to be replaced with cybernetics. Furthermore, Kylo incites more pain on himself by trying to fuck Reader while injured, resulting in reopening his wounds and more blood loss. 
> 
> Doc: "kylo ur arm nerves r fucked, it'll take a long time to heal! Rey fucked you up real good!"
> 
> Kylo: "Um ??? Rey fucked me up?? I can fuck myself up worse just watch -cuts off arm-"
> 
> [My Tumblr](korpuskat.co.vu)


	34. Aftermath [Explicit][Personal Care]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo, awake after his stunt yesterday, needs more care- and he has something to confess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Contains** : A confession, a bath, oral, Crylo Ren, probably a touch too much fluff

“Three more days, Sir. Five if the Turbolasers are to be repaired, too.” She was a short woman, her dark hair pulled back into a tight bobtail at the base of her skull. “Plus, the Command Shuttle is still fried, but that can wait.” Her uniform was pristine, but the apron that covered it was well-worn. Smudged with oils and greases from all over and inside the ship. A toolbelt held various items that surely could serve as instruments of torture, but instead were used to fix things. And yet, here this engineer was, trying to fix something- not even aware she would be destroying something more valuable than she could comprehend.

Hux nodded, his response buzzing and planning to reorder his schedule into the next few days. Perhaps the last days he would have as a general. “Five days, then. The hyperdrives take priority. Send confirmation as soon as they are repaired. Dismissed.” The woman saluted, her mind already churning away at diagnosing and fixing the damage to the engines. She hadn’t even seemed to notice your presence next to Hux. 

Your voice sounded foreign, far away as you reached out to feel for Kylo’s signature from halfway across the ship. “I need to leave.” Hux turned towards you. His emotional response was passive, having already planned for your inevitable desire to return to your quarters. “If you’re done, I need to check on him.” 

“He’s not a child; he knew what he was doing. You cannot coddle his injuries.” Hux turned, his coat stiffly shifting as he moved. A new one, you noticed. Starched, ironed, and free of the dark bloodstains from Starkiller. You followed him through the hallway without making a conscious decision to, so used to simply following Kylo through his days. “Ren acted as the co-commander of this ship. As he is currently _indisposed,_ this duty would _theoretically_ fall to you. You are his apprentice, are you not?”

You seethed, fists clenching. “I’m his apprentice, not his _replacement_. And I had thought you would be skilled enough to handle this ship on your own, General.” 

A flash of a riled-up irritation spat off his response- his thoughts echoing his annoyance you had apparently begun to inherit Ren’s indignant personality. For a moment you felt guilty; Hux had only been helpful to you- or, at the very least _indifferent_ to your problems. But no matter what Hux’s fate was after arriving at Snoke’s fortress, that was not your concern. Kylo- your Knight-master was your only priority. You had to care for him while you could; you had no clue as to how Snoke would treat him for his failure. 

Hux gave a pause, you could feel the conflicting desires in his mind. He could’ve snapped back at you in retaliation for your comment, but he seemed almost apologetic when he spoke. “The Supreme Leader has already informed me that another Knight will be assigned to the _Finalizer_ while Ren is completing his training with Leader Snoke. You will train under the new Knight, here.” 

You stared- tried to read his mind of any hint of trickery. But the bitter honesty- the vague memory of Hux approaching the towering figure, listening as his leader spoke of your future- drove you away. Your eyes fell to the floor, already feeling wet. You left Hux there, not listening to his protests if he even had any. You only had a few days.

 

 

 

The sitting room was empty, but more concerningly- the bedroom was empty too. The sheets to your bed were thrown back, mussed up, half falling off Kylo’s side where it looks like they tried to follow him. You could still feel Kylo’s signature nearby, calmer than it had been yesterday. No longer a vortex of grays, but rather a sullen shifting, lost within himself.

You stepped towards the ‘fresher, even though the light was off, “Kylo?”

“In here.” You turn and look around- his voice not coming from the ‘fresher, but, off to your left… The door with the numerical lock was open. The sight so unusual you had to stop and stare at it for a moment. From this angle you could only make out the mess of Kylo’s hair and the tops of his shoulders (one flesh, one half-covered in metal and scarring- the synthskin had not been applied yet) over the back of a black chair. He was half slumped forward, the arch of his spine clearly visible. 

You moved towards the door, brushing over his mind- Was he in pain? Why wasn’t he in bed? His response was flooded with grief and regret, emotional pain, not physical so why-- Your questions, however, stilled at the sight of the spotlighted pedestal before him at the very center of the strange room. He didn’t look up as you approached, his eyes staring blankly at the remains.

You struggled to inhale, the air coming in with a shake. Unmistakable, even in its ruined and decayed state, the mask held a life of its own in the room. Twisted with obsidian-black Force energy of the man who had worn it, the breathing apparatus and eye sockets melted into a permanent scowl. Even thirty years after his death it felt as though he was watching you- as though the mess of polymers would reanimate- regrow the body that had been hidden below his mask. It didn’t feel like you were looking at a mask- it felt like you were staring at the man himself.

“Vader had prosthetic limbs.” 

Your eyes slid to Kylo slowly, unsure if it was wise to take your eyes off the mask. Kylo’s skin was pale with a greenish twinge to it making his pink lips look nearly red in contrast, the still-fresh wound across his delicate face looking even more jagged in the consecrated lighting. His eyes were dark and heavy, tired. He didn’t look at you, stared blankly at the ruined mask. 

“I killed my father.” 

You moved closer to the chair, softly touching his hair, drawing you fingers through it when he leaned towards you. There was something more- something that was so gently covered up in his mind, the basest remnants of his shielding left to keep you out. You could find it, if you wanted to. You pushed the dark strands away from his face, stroked at his uninjured cheek. “Who did you kill, Kylo?” 

His mouth opened, the need to speak frozen by his unwilling tongue. He closed his mouth, grit his teeth- his response swelling with anger. He swallowed and tried again, the rage subsiding in his exhaustion. His voice cracked halfway through, barely whispering, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes: “Han Solo.” He sighed, a smile pulling at his lips for just a moment. “I killed Han Solo.”

Your hand stilled on his cheek. In alarm you stepped in front of him, cupped his face with your hands- drawing his eyes - just as clouded and pained as he response- up to you. Your mind worked to catch up with your mouth. “You… Han Solo was your… father?” 

A Resistance leader, a war hero? Aided in the destruction of _both_ Death Stars? No, no- Kylo must be, confused or something because there was no way, no feasible way for Kylo fucking Ren, more or less second in command of the Order to be _Han Solo’s_ son. 

His hand- warm and soft and fleshy- laid over one of yours, his face turning into your hand as he nodded. The stubble along his unshaved chin rubbed at your palm, burning slightly- and Kylo closed his eyes. He swallowed again, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

His emotional response certainly didn’t read as a lie- just that he was grieving, full of pain, lost. His face screwed up, soured as a sob racked through him, “I don’t know what to do anymore,” 

You gathered him against your body, arms wrapping around his shoulders- cupping the back of his head and letting him bury his face into your neck, trying to soothe him at all, in any way. His voice was too muffled against your robes, but he just kept talking, murmuring and confessing his sins and pains while you rubbed his back, laid kisses to his hair. His hand fisted into your clothing, trying desperately to hold you closer. The metal arm laid in his lap, unmoving.

“Shh, Kylo. It’s alright...” 

His head shook against you, drawing away from your arms. “No, I- I have to tell you.” He sniffed, rubbed at his face with his hand, stared into the melted mask- focusing on those unseeing eyes. “My-” He drew in a shaking breath, “My parents were. Han Solo and- Leia Organa.” 

You swallowed thickly, “The Resistance- that General Organa?”

Kylo nodded, his dark hair waving. “Leia is--, her _father_ was Darth Vader. Luke is her brother.”

You paused, letting the pieces fall into place. “Vader is… your grandfather.”

Kylo nodded again, both his hands- sleek metal contrasting against flesh- raising to press against his face. “I was so sure. I- I had a _vision_ , Snoke _showed me_ who I was to be.” His fingers rose, twisted into his hair. “He _showed_ me! If I could just be-- _better_ I-” 

“No, shh, Kylo.” You drew him to you again, pulling his hands away as they began to tug at the roots. You lured him up by his hands, the mechanical arm’s joints biting into your palm. If you could just get him out of this room, away from this circular thinking he would start to feel better. “Let’s just- get you in bed. You need to rest, okay?”

His hair flopped in front of his face as he shook his head, “No, I. I need to shower. I feel--”

“Okay, okay. I’ll run a bath.” 

 

 

His right arm- the mechanical mess of joints and circuitry hung over the side of the tub. When it would be finished it would be waterproofed; the synthskin too thick and hydro-repellent to allow for leaks and, by extension, shorts and damages. But for now it as bare to the world, exposed. Kylo leaned that shoulder over the edge, giving another few inches of safety around the sensitive parts. 

He just sat in the water as you cared for him- rubbing soap along his limbs and carefully cleaning around his tender wounds. The bacta had sealed up all his injuries, allowed red and pink tissue to reform over his skin. If he didn’t apply the anti-scarring salve soon, he would have a whole new set of marks- including the one over his face. 

He closed his eyes when you swiped a cloth over his face, made no comment- not even subconsciously- as you soaked his hair and rubbed shampoo in. You took your time, rubbing your fingers along Kylo’s scalp, working the soap in deep and trying to relieve just a little of his pain. You rinsed the suds away, sitting back on your heels to try and check his mind more thoroughly.

His mind was still alternating between running everything too fast and hard and being unable to process basic sensory input while you washed the soap from his hair and off his body. “I killed my father.” He repeated, lips barely moving in the statement.

You nodded, unsure how to assure him. “Yes. You did.” 

His eyes opened, slowly, returning your gaze. He blinked lazily, and for as quiet as his thought processes were- _When will you leave…?_ It’s not directed at you; his mind too frayed to allow his thoughts their own room. He’s expecting you to disappear between blinks. _I kill people I should care about._ The mechanical joints hummed softly as he moved the arm- one cold finger trailing over your robes, _I killed_ you _once, too. Why can’t you see it?_

“Don’t you _dare_ think that.” You cupped his face, grounding him in the sensation of your hands on his face- your left palm sitting over the fresh, pink skin of his scar. The intensity of your eyes shocked him, forced him to listen. “I don’t know what happened on Starkiller or what… changed, but you won’t hurt me, I know it.” You smiled, played up your confidence. “And I wouldn’t allow it anyway.”

A half-hearted playful huff and a smile that never reached his eyes graced his face- you noticed the way his cheeks contorted in expression wasn’t quite even anymore; his right cheek stiff with growing scar tissue. “You haven’t won a spar yet, apprentice.” 

“Yeah, well. I could probably handle you like this.” You stroked your thumb over the scar, eyes flicking momentarily to the other pink wounds about his body. 

You stayed like that, for a while. A shared unease, an emotional upheaval heavy between your minds. Kylo’s pain cut deeper, reopened years of old wounds- he couldn’t deal with them just yet. He was somewhere between shock and mourning, too weighted down in the present and the uncertain, looming future to even consider mending the past. 

He didn’t look away from you when he speaks again: “My fingers are pruning.” Somewhere in the back of his mind he noted _only five fingers to prune now._

You maneuvered him to stand, to step out of the tub and wrap a towel around his waist- another laid over his shoulders to catch the water from his hair. You urged him, motioning towards the bedroom, “Go lie down.” 

He did, his regular strong gait replaced with a half-asleep stumbling, trying to keep some of his weight off his injured leg. You drained the tub and gathered his clothes- filthy from both days without sleep and the occasional re-opening of Kylo’s wounds- and the bandages he’d shucked to bathe. Nothing about this felt real. Perhaps you were in shock too. 

You passed through the bedroom and dropped the clothing and bandages in one pile next to the door for a cleaning droid to deal with. You considered the heap for a moment- and removed your outermost robes and added them to the pile as well. You didn’t bother calling the droid now; Kylo had two towels being soaked through that would need to be gathered. You reentered the bedroom. 

Kylo laid on the bed, long, pale limbs spread around him- his metal arm held above as he examined it. He was half on the blankets, his hips and lower body raised slightly by the added layers. His wet hair was splayed over his pillow, only half on the towel around his shoulders- a wet stain was already spreading from from his head like a halo. You sat on the edge of the bed and scooted over to sit at his side. 

“I had to. Snoke...” His voice trailed off, his mind whispering about the Supreme Leader’s history of severity. He turned the hand, the joints whirred, shifting as he flexed his fingers.

His eyes met yours for a moment. “Synthskin doesn’t prune.” The forefinger and thumb pressed together, metal casings full of sensors rubbing on one another. You could pick that up, through his open mind: the difference in the sensory input. It’s… strange. It felt more removed from you, like it was observational data that was being recited by the nerves. “Medtechs said it’ll feel real once it’s on.” He thought too loudly again: _You won’t have to look at it._

You frowned, gathered both his hands, brought them to your lips. You kissed each knuckle, flesh and metal alike. It’s strange and different and not something you ever thought you would do- but it’s Kylo. He’s the one controlling the little twitches and he’s the one feeling the pressure sensors that transmit how your lips feel on those metal joints. 

Affection- a desperate need for acceptance slid off his response and into you. His eyes watered, “My-” His voice stopped short, an uneasy turmoil returning to his mind- fighting to express some idea again. “They called me _Ben.”_

You held your breath for a moment, repeated the name in your head. It didn’t sound right- didn’t match the idea of Kylo, like it didn’t fit him. You whispered the name, testing its shape on your tongue. “Ben,” 

Kylo shook his head, his response alarmingly upset. “No, that’s. I’m not that person.” The metal fist tightened around your hand. “I’m- _Kylo Ren._ I could never- go back to that life.”

You nodded, swallowed, stroked your thumbs over his knuckles until they loosened again. “Okay, okay.” 

Kylo sighed,finally relaxed onto the bed, slowly seeming to melt into the pillows and stared at the ceiling as you twined your fingers with his- feeling the sharp edges of his cybernetic hand biting into the tender skin between your fingers. You sat there, rubbing at his hands- waiting for him to piece together what he needed to say. “I killed my father.” 

You swallowed. “Yes,” You pressed a light kiss to his left hand. 

“I could kill you, too. I’ve seen it. Why won’t you run?”

You smile, lean down- your hands holding his down to the pillow for a long moment as you kiss him. Simple, chaste- your nose sliding against the side of his- just wanting to be close with him. Your lips brushed against his as you spoke, “I love you. And- I trust you.” 

The tears that had gathered in his eyes finally slipped, hot tracks sliding over his cheeks while his chin trembled. _“Why?_ Why do you even care?”

You frowned, pulled away for a moment. “Because I _do.”_ You pressed that feeling into him- your warm, welcoming love- and watched Kylo’s eyes close. Tears clung to his dark eyelashes, even as he melted under your affection. His chest shook under you as he stifled his sobs, turned his face into the pillow. 

“It didn’t work,” He whispered between choked sobs. “I still feel it- the _Light.”_

Your brow scrunched up, “The Light…? I thought it didn’t matter what part of the Force a Knight uses?”

His hair shook with his head, swaying freely, some landing over his face. “It- _hurts.”_ His eyes opened again- wet and betraying everything you could feel from his emotional response. “Don’t you feel it? Like- like you’re being torn apart?”

You shook your head softly- brushed his hair away from his face. “No… I don’t, Kylo.” 

A vicious sob nearly toppled you from Kylo’s chest. “I thought- if I killed him I would, I would finally be _free.”_ A shuddering inhale and you cupped his face, tried to keep your own tears at bay. “It- it’s so much _worse.”_

“Oh, Kylo…” His hands laid over yours, kept your palms pressed to his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” _I’d do anything to help you…_

You settled over him, covered him with your body. You kissed his forehead, brushed your hands through his hair. His hands curled around your wrists, holding your hands to his face while you laid soft kisses over his cheeks, his lips. You wouldn’t be able to help him soon, but for now- for now you could give him everything you could. 

His sobs stifled off slowly as you held him, his mind calming in time with your breathing, matching up to your gentle caresses against him. You kissed his cheeks, stroked one hand down the length of his face- over his jaw and down his neck. 

“I love you, Kylo. We’ll- we’ll get through this, okay?”

His mind whispered he wasn’t so sure- but he nodded, hoped you were right. That this somehow would not be the end of him, of _you._ You smiled gently, pressed another kiss to his temple and leaned back-

And gasped, rocking forward again.

Embarrassment slaked off Kylo’s response, his face turning pink in shame. His gaze slid away from you. “Sorry- you were so close and- touching me. Sorry.” You swallowed and looked down at him. His mind whispered that you could just ignore it- he wasn’t really that interested, if you didn’t want to bother with it. After all- the last time he’d tried this stunt he pulled his stitches. But an idea was quickly forming in the back of your mind. You smiled again- and this time, you knew Kylo felt the touch of mischievousness behind it.

You pressed your lips to his again, shifted your hips down to rock against his half-hard cock- urging it to twitch to life under you. Kylo moaned into your mouth, his hips lifting to press against you, tried to find more friction against your robes.

“Shh,” you leaned back, dragged your hands over his chest, traced over the maze of small, white-faded scars over his body. “Let me take care of you.” 

Your fingers slid over to his nipples, petting over the sensitive, pink skin- thumbed at them gently until they stiffened under your touch. Kylo shuddered, sighed- his hands settling on your thighs- his thumbs stroking against the dark cloth. Pleasure and appreciation rolled off his emotional response in waves, Kylo’s eyes sliding half-closed- his lips parting gently as you rolled against him. 

You kissed at Kylo’s chest- the bumps of his clavicles, the dip between his pectorals- determined to kiss at every inch of his chest, to lave him with gentle affections. With each and every brush of your lips on his skin you punctuated it with a hard grind of your hips- you sought to work against the sensitive underside of the head of his cock, to have him shivering under you. You moved outward- Kylo _keened_ as you lapped at one nipple. 

His back arched delicately as he tried to urge you to go on. So you did. You suckled at the sensitive skin- let one hand thumb at the other nipple as you worked one with your tongue. The warmth of your mouth kept the delicate skin soft, relaxed against your ministrations. However when you finally let it pop free of your lips- you blew on it. Just a gentle little puff of air was all it took for Kylo to shake, jerk his hips up against you again as the sensitive tissue of his nipple contracted against the chill. A stiff, red nub replacing what had been soft and pink in your mouth. 

A glance down showed you what you had hoped for, his cock achingly hard, vividly red against the blackness of your robes. A long thread of precum connected the tip of his cock to you, highlighting the stain he’d left with your grinding on him. You grinned, gently pet his cock with one hand.

You slid back, down his thighs and let the many thick layers of your robes slide over his skin. His cock was burning hot as you wrapped both hand around its length, felt it twitch heavily in your grasp. You stroked slowly, working both your hands along his cock, felt Kylo shudder, moan for your touch. 

You laughed, used one hand to rub soothingly over his stomach, felt the muscles under your fingertips flex in response. “Shh, relax….”

His hands fell to the sides, twisting into the sheets with only a small whimper of your name on his lips. You let him calm down for a moment, waited for his quickly glazing eyes to meet yours before you put your hands back on him. 

You took your time, drew your hands up slowly- worked each finger individually over him- used one thumb to tease under the head of his cock. Kylo whimpered, his hips trying to lift once more. You took a little mercy on him- kissed at the slit as another thick drop of precum met your lips. You licked at him, a soft little swipe of your tongue as he sighed. His right hand raised- reached for you- and paused. A lilt of shame and doubt slid from his mind- you nipped it before it became a problem. Your left hand slid up- met his where he had hesitated. The joints were cold and sharp, but you threaded your fingers together, let your hand warm him. Kylo shuddered, sighed, and tightened his fingers in yours.

You met his eyes and smiled, let your mind wash over him, bathe him in warmth. And you took him in your mouth, closed you eyes, stroked your hand over his length. A shaking breath left his lips, his eyes half-lidded and distant, his cheeks painted pink- but best was his mind, whispering his praises louder than his mouth ever could. _So gorgeous…._ His metal fingers tightened for a moment, _all mine…_

You tongued at the underside, sliding over his frenulum, moving up to suckle at the head, to work your lips against the ridge there. You caressed his cock faster, purposely catching his eyes- putting on a bit of a show, just for him. You slid your head down until your lips met your hand and his cock bumped at the back of your throat and swallowed against him.

Kylo moaned, barely more than an exhale- his eyes pinching closed, head rolling to the side and biting his lip. You watched his free hand twist tighter into the sheets while the cybernetics twitched in your left hand, the thumb stroking oddy at the curve between your index finger and thumb. 

His orgasm was building steadily, his body coming closer and closer to that edge with every twist of your tongue and bob of your head. You could feel it- in the heavy twitching of his cock, the hot increase in his breathing- but through his mind, it was a burning, the pleasure boiling inside his skin as he struggled to stay relaxed- to let you simply do this for him. 

His thighs twitched and he moaned, the need to tell you on the tip of his tongue and- your sucked hard at his cock, worked your hand and mouth faster- tighter around him. The words were lost to a yelp, his body arching helplessly- his metal hand gripping yours like a vice, the unforgiving joints biting into the flesh of your hand as Kylo gasped, panted- and finally spilled his cum into your mouth. 

You held him there, suckling and dripping down all the cum that leaked from his cock, and waited for his orgasm to subside- cautiously licked at him as he began to shiver in overstimulation. Only when his hand went limp in yours did you back off, laying soft, lingering kisses along his cock and then- back up his body. When you reached his face, Kylo tried to return your kiss, but he was still dazed from his pleasure, his lips moving slow and sloppy against yours.

You settled beside him, lying down and facing him- dragging his hand across his body so you could keep holding it. Kylo rolled onto his side towards you, his flesh hand curling around your hand and his cybernetic one. 

His mind was quieted, contented for a moment. A whisper of his voice slid into your mind, _thank you._

You smiled, cupped his jaw and kissed him once more- lingering closer to him. You shared that moment, hazily staring into each other's eyes and minds. Lazily tangling your thoughts together, letting your soft affection slide into him, reassure him. And- you had to ask. You felt your face fall, your response suddenly less warm and receptive as Kylo’s.

“What happened on Starkiller?”

You watched Kylo’s throat bob as he swallowed, looked away; his mind falling just as quiet as yours. “The girl,” A quick flash of anger shot through his response, disappearing just as fast- “she’d seen the map. And. She’s Force-sensitive... she resisted me.” Kylo sighed, rubbed his hands over the one of yours he held. He didn’t need to tell you that she was the one who had fought him- had done a- _majority_ of the damage to him. His mind did not linger on _her_ for the wound to his side- but you doubted she was innocent of that as well.

Your hand in his hands tightened, your teeth gritting hard at the thought. That- that someone, a real, tangible person had done this to him. You- you couldn’t stomach the death you had seen before Starkiller’s destruction. And yet- you could see it, feel the sudden ability- that you could- could do it. That if you ever, _ever_ found this girl--

Kylo’s mind shifted, concern skirting around the edge of your mind and then- he echoed your hot rage back to you, questioning _why._ You startled at the feeling, shocked at the saturation that you didn’t think you could find within yourself- at least, not within rage. Your shook your head, pushed the anger away- you weren’t mad at _Kylo,_ you didn’t need to burden his already stressed mind with your own feelings. 

You focused on Kylo’s face and the fresh, pink skin that promised a new scar. _Sorry. Go on._

Kylo looked away again, his mind going distant and, _here-_ his shielding shifted, opening this memory to you- all you had to do was brush his mind and you were suddenly there- reliving the day.

The girl- _Rey-_ was just as haggard as Torosian had said. Worn, tired, scared looking. Harmless while tied to the interrogation chair. And yet- you watched in an alarming first person as he pressed into her mind- and how she repelled him. And what you had felt through him on the _Finalizer,_ is mind scrambling to re-sort his barriers, to push Rey- this _scavenger_ out of his head, away from his thoughts.

And, knowing to listen- remembering your own mind reaching for him-- you heard through him your own voice, distant- thoughts of miles away on the starship- _Kylo?_

His memories shifted- sped through events you could barely skim- slid until he stopped abruptly, over a long bridge. And- an older man, his response bleeding in emotional pain, familiarity and the sick desire to _touch_ Kylo- and his memories skipped, refocusing the next moment with his mask off and the harsh crackling of his sword buried in his _father’s_ chest. 

And- he closed the connection, gently pushed you from his mind as you shuddered, your mind swimming and settling into the present, physical world. His emotional response slid through the spectrum, echoing through the pain he had felt at the time, had felt in reliving the memory.

His voice wavered for only a moment, and hardened. “After that- we fought.” _you don’t need to see that._

You shuddered, sighed- stroked your hands over his. You didn’t speak, couldn’t- and let the subject drop quietly. After that- the _fight-_ Hux arrived and dragged Kylo, half-conscious, close to bleeding and/or freezing to death, into the command shuttle. So instead you just stroked your fingers over his hands, traced around his knuckles, the odd shapes of his new hand and arm. You would have to memorize this one’s shape, too. It was a part of him, now. 

You moved closer, pressed your forehead to his. Your voice felt too loud for the quietness of the room, so you whispered to his mind, _What now?_

Kylo blinked slowly, raised one hand to cup your cheek, pulled you closer to even closer to him. _I’ll see which Knight it is that will train you while I’m gone._ He considered you, traced a finger down your face, over the curve of your lips. _I need to show you- how to shield yourself from them._

You nodded, sighed. You felt the gentle pull of a million little points of pressure lifting you, just barely off the bed- and the blanket sliding out from under you. You scooched closer, sliding close enough to press the side of your nose against Kylo’s, your hands leaving his to curl around his body, to hold him to you. _I don’t want you to go._

A bittersweet smile pulled at his lips, a tenderness at your confession- that anyone at all cared for him to stay. _I know._ His hand raised and pet through your hair, rubbed at your scalp soothingly. _I know._


	35. Ya'burnee [Explicit]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't delay Kylo's departure any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Contains:** Some more Force training, marking, rough sex, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Suffering (tm),

You could feel Kylo through the door much more opaquely than you had before. To be fair, neither of you were feeling particularly powerful. Even with four days’ rest and recuperation- interrupted by various fits of alternating crying and rage- a persistent weariness followed you. So instead of being well pushed out of Kylo’s mind while he was in Snoke’s holochannel chamber, you caught little pieces of his thoughts and a majority of his emotional response.

Which, in truth, was just as tired as yours. His thoughts- still miraculously shielded from Snoke’s prying eyes- said little more than his quiet acceptance of failure and the uneasy hatred of knowing what was to come. The same feeling was settled deep inside you as well. Four long days had passed- and by this time tomorrow Kylo would be on an undisclosed planet, locked in some training regime that you didn’t dare speculate on. And yet, if Kylo was determined to drive away his attachment to the Light, to destroy whatever part of himself that ached for peace and contentment…?

That didn’t sound like anything approaching a pleasant undertaking. You sighed, felt your soul grow heavier at the thought. 

The large blast doors opened before you- and you startled again at the sight. Even though you’d watched over his healing and spent virtually every moment at his side, it was still so strange not to see the same face as you had woken up next to so many times. No, now a long, pink scar bisected his face- just as rough and vicious as you had dreamed. 

His right sleeve had finally filled out to a semi-correct shape; yesterday the medtechs had installed a protective outer layer of molded, specialized carbon fiber over the more delicate servos, inlaid with more even more surface sensors. Larger, flatter plates of durasteel covered areas that didn’t need as much elasticity- the back of his hand, the tops of his fingers excluding the joints, a majority of his forearm, and the outer section of his upper arm. It would all be covered with synthskin, but realistically- as the medtechs had pointed out- there likely wouldn’t be replacement synthskin at Snoke’s base and considering the likelihood of damage, it was left as its carbon fiber covering. 

Kylo motioned for you to follow him, spoke as you made your way back to the lifts- back to your quarters. “He’s sending Xeni and Enki Ren.” 

You couldn’t miss how _tired_ he sounded beneath the innate irritation in his voice, “Wait- two? I thought it was just one…?”

“It was. Enki needs transport.”

You frowned, watched as Kylo summoned the lift. “Transport? Don’t they have their own ship?”

“Enki is not a pilot and. He doesn’t stay on one ship for too long. He prefers to work alone. His. Casualties are rather high.”

You blanched, tried not to consider that too heavily that this Knight would sharing a ship with you for _any_ period of time. Kylo had been destructive, but at the very least it was rare that he _killed_ someone. 

“So- Xeni Ren will… be the one to train me? Who are they?”

“Xeni is a Togruta. Adept at persuasion and probing.” He considered that for a moment, his emotional response quieting with this thoughts, “She is a good match for your training.” His brow wrinkled, “However, she _will_ try to probe your mind. It’s best she doesn’t find anything about me. Or us.”

You blinked, looked up to him. “Why?”

“The Knights are not a set hierarchy.” His left hand settled over his right arm, around the shapely metal. “She may challenge me because of my injury- or you.” 

“Oh.” You looked to the floor, waited for the lift's’ doors to open. 

You stepped into the lift and rubbed at your eyes. You wanted to sleep, to curl up in your bed next to Kylo and do absolutely nothing until the last possible moment. But as much it sounded nice now, you’d regret it. And, considering the shuffling, badly organized plans sliding through Kylo’s mind- he had one last lesson for you before you became someone else’s apprentice.

He needed to make sure your mental shielding was up to par, at the very least strong enough to keep out Xeni’s prying. 

 

 

 

In your room you immediately shed your boots, leaving them by the door and starting to pull at the outer layers of your robes. You let them fall into a pile, stripping down to your undersuit, too tired and worn out to deal with the heavy cloth any longer. 

“I doubt you can hide anything from me,” Kylo said as he unwrapped his cowl, “You’re very open.”

Kylo unclipped his belt and removed his surcoat, laying his clothes in a separate pile, and stripped down to his ribbed undersuit. You took your usual places for mental training- sitting on the floor, facing each other at the foot of your bed, Kylo closer to the bed than you. You settled your hands in your lap and closed your eyes.

It was so simple to connect with Kylo’s mind it was nearly unsettling; just the tiniest brush of your power against his mind and you were melding into his thoughts, his consciousness. You sighed as Kylo’s voice echoed into you, clear and relaxing, _Xeni won’t hide when she tries. She’s cunning, but not stealthy. Now, hide something from me. And I’ll find it._

You considered what to hide- and settled for something simple. A familiar memory. You could still recall how horrifying it had been- Kylo Ren towering over you in his massive black robes, his voice distorted and demanding who you were. Your life had certainly changed since then. Now, to hide it- to protect it from probing minds finding it. 

You imagined a wall, brick- no, durasteel. Thick, encasing the whole of the memory- of the entire world that surrounded you at that time. It felt distant now; still there, of course- but muted. Perhaps that meant you were on the right track.

 _Okay,_ You sighed, braced yourself. _I’m ready._

You felt his signature change, shift around him- and you shuddered as you felt his power focus, repeating the same thought process he had when he had- had interrogated the pilot. His power sharpening to an infinite knife’s edge, ready to pierce anything. 

And he pressed it to your mind- and immediately chased the trail of where your selected memory hid. You tried to catch him, to block the tiny tendril of Force power from digging further into your mind- tried to stop it, maybe if you were particularly lucky possibly repel. But it was too fast! Sliding between your metaphorical fingers, hitting the imaginary durasteel barrier and-- without any hesitation, the thin strip of power pierced right through. 

You gasped- and the memory was forcibly replayed in your mind as he watched, saw himself through your eyes. It wasn’t painful, though perhaps he was trying to not make it such. You felt him seem to sigh through his mind; his penetrating little extension of himself relaxed, curled around the memory fondly, echoing his own thoughts back to you. The first time he’d seen you- when he’d _recognized_ you even after he had convinced himself you didn’t really exist. 

Just a part of a future that would never be his own.

You caressed at his mind, and he withdrew slowly, left you aching to reach for his embrace again. _It was too easy to find. Hide this one deeper._

You felt yourself nod in the real world, return to picking another memory. You considered something simple, perhaps what your desk had looked like in the translators’ section. But another thought came to mind and you couldn’t help but smile. How silly and, somehow, adorable he looked with blonde, curly hair and thick glasses. Matt. 

You tried your shielding again, a large wall between your image of Matt and the rest of your mind. The thought of durasteel hadn’t given Kylo any pause- you had to try something else. You exhaled slowly and tried to see your own Force powers- a gray much lighter than Kylo’s- and tried to see it as solid- thick and dense and impenetrable. You shielded this memory with the Force itself. 

Now, how to hide it? How could you hide a memory? Perhaps- by associated it with something else. Slid it behind another set of memories. Now the question of which. Where would Kylo- or rather, Xeni- not look for something hidden about Kylo? 

Well, from your impressions of the Knights you suspected they wouldn’t think much of any person who wasn’t Force-sensitive. Not worth their time, someone so lowly. You could hide Matt behind another blonde. You nearly snickered- oh, now that was an idea. 

You thought of the first time you had seen the captain without her chrome-plated helmet. She’d been working out- shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat, her cheeks flushed pink. And there, hidden behind her ruthless beauty, you slid your memory of Matt’s awkward, endearing disguise.

You exhaled, braced yourself. _Ready._

His mind slotted into yours, the razor-sharp tendril of his power already prepared to slice through your mind. This time, however, he had to pause upon entering- startling at how hard it was to find the first trace of your hidden memory. You grinned, grappled with his probe- tried to repel it from your thoughts. 

A quick shot of thrill- and only vaguely subtle pride- burst from his mind. He slipped through your grasp with ease and- you gasped, his power expanding around you, grabbing you-- holding your own extensions of the Force _and_ your physical body completely still as he probed freely through your mind. You squirmed in his grasp, only to be rewarded with a teasing brush against your face. 

From there- without your interference- it took him only a moment to find your memory of Phasma. Kylo watched for a moment, observed your own reaction- your quiet attraction to her. A touch of confusion passed off his emotional response; so vibrant and saturated with his presence in your mind. For a moment he thought this was the memory you had hidden-- but there was still something else. He could feel it.

His probe pushed past the dreary, sweaty gym, dug just a little deeper. He was greeted with another memory of himself; your shock and disbelief at seeing the man who claimed to be a radar technician and yet was _exactly_ the same as Kylo. And, at least after the entire mess of those few days, your odd fondness for the outfit. 

_Really? Blondes?_ Kylo further teased you, playfully caressing you as he released his hold on your mind and body. 

“Not blondes,” You said as you settled back into the physical world, taking the moment just to enjoy how Kylo’s mind was still pressed against yours. “Just you.” 

He blinked once, stunned- and he sighed, slow and deep- untempered awe falling from his emotional response. Kylo rocked forward onto his knees, moved closer to you and caught your lips- careful to keep his still-sensitive, healing wound away from accidentally rubbing on your face. One of his hands slid behind your head, supported your weight as he lowered you down to the floor. Your hands sought his hair, tangling in his thick tresses- hoping you never forgot how this felt. Kylo warm and solid over you- his lips softly moving over your own. How would you be able to live without him near? 

You sighed against his mouth, let his tongue slide against yours. Both of his hands moved to cup your face, stroke his thumbs over your cheeks- one warm and soft, the other cool and hard. You expected him to rut down against you or at least move away from your mouth- likely down your neck. But his kisses only slowed to lingering, nearly chaste presses of his lips to yours. 

His lips brushed against yours as he spoke. “I need to meditate. Before I-” You leaned up and finished his sentence with another kiss. You didn’t want to think about that yet- you still had time. As you released him, he followed you- pressed his forehead to yours. “I mean with- _him.”_

“Oh.” The surreal thought of the half-destroyed mask in the other room made you shiver- unnerved you to think that something of Vader’s was so close and felt so- inhabited. But- you’d only been in the room once, and only when Kylo was unwell. You tried to keep the hurt from your voice as you spoke, “Alone?”

Kylo opened his mouth- and paused, leaned away from you, settling back onto his knees. His response was unsettled, unsure of something-- “I’ll be talking to him, but if you want to…” 

Relief flooded through you, just knowing you wouldn’t have to be away when time was so short. You couldn’t bear to be apart from him, even for something so important. You sat up, and- wait. “Talking to him?”

Kylo looked pained for a moment, averted his gaze to the floor. “Darth Vader’s energy is tied to his mask. He- guides me.”

You stared at him for a moment, shifting through his response for any sign of trickery. “A ghost?”

Kylo shifted awkwardly. “If it makes you uncomfortable-”

“No, I- I want to be with you. But I- I knew it felt strange! Like it was watching me…” 

A hesitant, bittersweet smile pulled at his lips as he met your eyes. It was odd, perhaps, knowing you had- in some form- met his grandfather. Darth Vader. Probably best not to dwell on that.

You stood, and let him guide you through the door. Now, now that you could see what was happening- you saw how he bypassed that numerical lock. The action didn’t even register in his mind- a tiny tendril of his power pushing the tumbler away. No need to even interact with the keypad. You couldn’t help but wonder if there even a number code assigned to the door at all.

The room was exactly as you had seen it four days ago. Mostly barren, almost painfully simple in its design. A single pedestal for Vader’s mask- even more chilling now that you knew he really was connected to it- and the chair that sat before it. Off to the left was another pedestal-like thing, covered in- you weren’t sure you wanted to ask. It appeared to be ashes- perhaps he burned something in here? In some sort of sacrificial aspect? You weren’t quite sure how he interacted with Vader.

You swallowed and looked back to him as he settled in his chair. The only chair in the room. You could, of course, stand beside him as you were doing. Perhaps sit at his feet, rest your head on his knees. You stepped towards him, hesitated- 

“Here,” he motioned your closer, around the front of his chair and- drew you sideways across his lap. His left hand curled behind your head and pulled your ear flush to his chest and his heartbeat echoed through your head. 

It should’ve been odd- to curl so tightly up to him in such a private, solitary room, and yet. You sighed, settled in closer- let your legs extend over the side of his chair, the cool metal arm settling over your middle. 

You felt his voice reverberate in his chest, “Grandfather…” his voice low and soft- you followed his gaze- focused somewhere behind the mask, higher. You blinked slowly- saw something shimmer for a moment. A sliding fade of blue- and it was gone. You blinked again- squinted your eyes to try and bring it into view. You had no explanation for it except-

A ghost.

You shuddered and stared at the same spot. For a moment- a long, concerning moment- you felt like you _should_ be afraid. Darth Vader was a person of _legends-_ just as Skywalker is, you suppose- but Vader had been ruthless, merciless… And yet. Somehow you felt safe with Kylo’s arms curled around you- his voice shaking his chest, muffled, lulling you to a peaceful trance. 

And it was enough, to have him hold you so preciously. You curled your hands into the thick cloth of his undersuit, turned your face into the ribbed strips of fabric. He was speaking, just barely murmuring. You could listen if you wanted, but it sort of felt like eavesdropping. You couldn’t even see the- the _ghost_ of Darth Vader anyway and you certainly didn’t hear him. But Kylo’s voice was soothing as you closed your eyes.

You drifted like that- stroking over the ribbed material of Kylo’s midcoat, focused on the way his chest expanded as he inhaled, the steady beat of his pulse. 

And, eventually, you slept.

 

 

You woke with a dull ache between your shoulderblades and the warm, comforting feel of Kylo’s mind curled around yours. You blinked awake slowly, serenely aware of your position- you knew you were in Kylo’s sanctuary, in his lap as he held you, stroking the cool, smooth metal of his right thumb over your cheek. 

You mumbled, tried to push some form of an inquiry to him- too tired to form any logical words quite yet. His arm was especially cool under your palm as you laid it over his hand, pressed your face against it. You exhaled peacefully, enjoyed the gentle atmosphere.

“Y/n,” His voice is- rough, not quite _right_ as you look up to him. His eyes are tinged with dark circles- just barely red- and you feel it then. His overbearing sorrow, this awful sense of _acceptance._ You sleepily press a hand to his face- try to comfort him and think why, why, what had happened? Had it been another dream-

No. You’d _slept._ Hot tears gathered in your eyes, the same sorrow settling heavy in your chest. No, no- 

You scrambled over him, careless if you hurt him- straddled his lap, forced your hand behind his back, curling into tight fists, buried your face against the high collar around his neck. _You can’t. You can’t go._

“I have to,” He whispered even as his arms circled around you, pulled you even closer to him. “I’ll be back, I saw it. In a vision.” One hand cupped your head, stroked through your hair. “Eight weeks.”

No, no- that was too long. You shook your head against him, felt tears begin to soak into his undersuit. He knew- he knew _exactly_ what waited for him in his Master’s base, the very thing you had feared. 

“It’s just training,” he whispered, leaning his head over yours. The quiet submission he felt to the Supreme Leader resurfaced in his mind, “I’ve done it before.”

Your heart _ached._ You wanted- needed him to know how much you cared. That you would easily do anything in your power to keep him by your side, away from whatever pain awaited him on some undisclosed planet. What if something happened to either of you in those eight weeks? Or worse- if you had changed so much in your weeks under Kylo’s care, then who would come back from Snoke’s training? 

You pulled away from him- and surged forward again, caught him by the lips and pushed him against the back of the chair. You pushed everything into this kiss, every ounce of your love for him- every part of you that ached for him. And- somehow, your need. Just- you needed to feel that close with him one more time-- in case-

You tried not to let a sob break your kiss and failed, you pulled away with one vicious shake of your body. And Kylo followed after you- pressed his own kiss to you, hot and needy and _alive-_ pouring his own response into it. You felt it in turn, the burning, consuming love he felt for you, and- a whispered _apology_ beneath, a horrid, empty pain. 

Why? For leaving? It wasn’t his fault, not really- if he didn’t obey Snoke… You pressed against his mind, slid in through his meager shielding. His thoughts were hardly hidden and you felt them attached to his guilt- _I kill everything I love; I’m sorry I hurt you too; Why even care for me?;_

Fresh tears blurred your eyes and you sobbed against his mouth. _That’s not true, Kylo-_ His hands curled into your hair, anchored you against him as you grabbed at his pants, tried to shove them down his thighs. He gasped, his mouth brushing over yours as he whispered your name.

“Please, please- before you go, please…” You whispered back, urgent and insistent. You freed his cock and rubbed at it, stroked him to life before you, enjoying how his cock filled, hardened in your hands- earning a breathy moan from Kylo. His hands dropped to your undersuit, began to push your own pants down. With your combined effort you somehow managed to get them off, dropped them blindly to the floor. 

Kylo’s hand immediately sought the warm, waiting flesh of you pussy and even you were shocked by how wet you were, how easily his fingers slid between your entrance and your clit. Kylo slid his hand down, adjusted his wrist as if to slide a finger in and begin to work you open-- you grabbed his arm,“ No, I want- I want to _feel you.”_

You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, nodded. He slid down the chair just a touch while you positioned yourself over him. You had so little time left- you couldn’t waste any of it. So you sunk down in one clean motion. Your breath caught in your throat, helpless to drop your head back and moan as you revelled in the burn of being fucked open too fast, the deeply satisfying feeling of being stretched around his cock. You clenched around him, writhed at the sensation. Kylo’s hands settled on your hips and he returned a deep moan, gently swaying your hips to grind on him. Even as your cunt ached, you followed his pace and worked your hips on him, deliciously dragging your clit against him.

You wanted to go slow- to make it last, but you didn’t have _time-_ Kylo would be gone. No, you didn’t want something slow and gentle- you needed- needed him to fuck you, ravage you. Make you _feel_ him, you had to- 

You moaned, your pace devolving into quick, forceful ruts against his body. You returned one hand to his hair, pulled hard against the soft locks until he gasped- and you angled his face back to yours. His mouth attacked yours, biting at your lips, sucking hard at them and he growled, deep and primal against your lips and you shuddered, clenched around his cock. His hips lifted, worked in rhythm to your grinding down. 

You twisted your fist in his hair, moaned against his lips, invited his tongue into your mouth while you dug your fingernails into his shoulder, hoped to somehow get through his thick undersuit. You wanted- wanted to mark him in vibrant red, make sure Snoke knew exactly who Kylo belonged to. And you- 

You wanted that too. You pushed the back of his neck down and leaned your head back- hoped your desire was spoken to his mind without any words, and yet- you couldn’t stop your own mouth if you wanted to because- you did want it; you wanted to beg for it.

“Kylo, mark me, _please,”_ You gasped, whined against him. “Like before- please!” _Don’t let me forget-_

His teeth grazed over your neck, just teasing the edges across the soft skin, _Xeni will see them-_

“I don’t _care_ about Xeni,” You gasped, cupped the back of his head- tried to urge him to just _bite,_ sink his teeth into your flesh and draw blood, bring a beautiful bruise to your skin, “I- I need it, _please,_ Kylo.”

Another dark, needing growl vibrated through your neck and his mouth latched onto your neck- sucked your soft skin into his mouth, caught it between his teeth and sawed back and forth, sucked hard to break vessels, bring blood to the skin. The hand not twisted into Kylo’s hair pushed up his undersuit’s shirt, burrowed your hand up along his back. Kylo let got of his first spot, licked at it to soothe the lingering burn for a moment, and moved down, more below your chin to start another. 

You dug your nails into his back- felt his warm skin yielding below your hands. You twisted your neck, pressed your lips against the fragile shell of Kylo’s ear, “I want to feel you tomorrow,” You dragged your hand down his back- clawed four angry, red marks forming on pale skin under the black cloth. You rolled your hips down hard onto him, ground your clit against the hard mound of his public bone. “I want to feel you with me, please-”

Kylo shuddered, exhaled hard against your neck. Kylo’s hands clutching at your hips suddenly became vices, pressing hard into your skin, deep enough to feel the shape of his bones. _“Yes!”_ You knew you would feel him- you’d see him in his bruises, feel the echoes of his hands on your body. Fresh tears pulled at your eyes and you pressed your face against Kylo’s hair, watched his hair ruffle in your hot panting, let him hear your moans, let him hear you as you fucked yourself on his hard, perfect cock. 

Kylo’s head dropped, wrapped his lips around the knob of your collarbone, sucked a fresh mark there as well, his teeth scraping over the sensitive hollow above. You whined, fought to keep his head steady on your skin as you rode him, dug your nails into the soft flesh between his shoulder blades again. 

Kylo released the knob of your collarbone, leaving it red and angry. He moved to your left shoulder, started another mark- and settled his hands closer in on your hips, his thumb going to work immediately, circling your clit in time with your continuous grinding. It felt so good, the underside of your clit rubbed by Kylo’s abdomen and the top rubbed in countermeasure, burning pleasure through your mind. You whimpered, tried to hold off from tipping over that edge-- if you let go, if you let yourself enjoy this for what it was-- then it was over. Reality would return and Kylo would have to leave again. You couldn’t let that happen. You couldn't face that yet. 

You tried to slow your hips- back off from your frantic pacing to something slow and maintainable. Something to make it last.

 _You can’t delay it forever,_ Kylo’s voice whispered into your mind, and that- that was all the warning you got. 

A second set of hands- cold, solid, invisible except for the shimmering gray extension of the Force- perched under your ass, held you partially in the air only halfway impaled on Kylo’s cock. You shivered tried to free yourself- take control back. You were rewarded only with your hips and thighs frozen in place, helpless. 

Kylo kissed his way back to your lips, and fucked up into you, vicious, hard thrusts that bounced against your cervix. His right thumb kept swirling around your clit, the metallic fingers curled harshly into your flesh- already making you sore. You whimpered, felt yourself rising higher- you tried to slow your breathing, anything, anything at all that wouldn’t make you face this. 

Kylo’s hand slid over your side, raked his nails down your flesh leaving a matching pair of welts on your skin as you had left on his. You whimpered, gasped at the shallow pain. You refused; it was amazing, felt so right to have him scratch you, mark you- but you couldn’t let go. And you felt it in his response, felt that he was trying. He would make you cum, whether you wanted it or not. 

His hand curled up behind you, tangled into your hair and _yanked,_ forced your head back- staring at the gray ceiling as Kylo’s hot mouth littered fresh bites across your neck, sucking hard and violent to leave as many new marks as he could. You whimpered as Kylo’s teeth grazed over your pulse, felt the vein throbbing hard beneath his touch. You anchored him there with the fist still in his hair, gasped as another hard thrust sent shockwaves through your body.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt it- it was too good, you couldn’t stop it even as you fought it. You tried- tried to prevent it, to pull it out as long as possible even as hot tears left new tracks over your cheeks. And you- you gasped, pulled against the tight fist in your hair, fought to grind harder against Kylo’s thumb- and shuddered, moaned. Lightning pleasure shot through your body, making your toes curl, your nails bite harder into Kylo’s back and scalp. You shuddered, your hips jerking in time to the rhythmic clenching around Kylo’s cock and-

And you _sobbed,_ choked the next moan with a ruthless shake of your chest, shuddering as ecstasy and agony warred inside you.

Kylo didn’t stop moving at all, the second set of hands dropping you down, spearing you completely on the length of his cock, making you groan- a new wave of aftershocks skittering over your skin- still keeping his vicious pace. Your walls spasmed as oversensitivity began to set in. You whined, gasped into the air as Kylo released your hair and you nuzzled against his head. And finally- finally, he gave two thrusts harsher than any before, and pulled you all the way down on his cock, held you there as he shivered, gasped against your skin. 

You could feel his cock throb inside you as his spilled his cum, Kylo panting against your bruised and bitten neck. Tears continued to roll off your cheeks and down your chin as you each floated back down, your death-grip in his hair and the nails dug into his back loosened, relaxing out to pass smooth, soothing strokes over his shoulders and over his scalp. You closed your eyes, nuzzled into his hair- breathed in deeply, tried to memorize his scent, the shapes of the muscles in his back, how beautiful his hair looked mussed and tangled. How it felt when you carded your fingers through it. 

You tried not to think it would be the last time you got to feel this.

Kylo sighed, his breath hot and pleasant over your shoulder. His hands slowly disengaged from your thighs, moved to match your caresses, echoed them along your thighs, up and over your sides and back. Crawling, nearly hesitant, gentle movements- the same sense of memorization sliding off his mind. 

You couldn’t help the next sob that was ripped from your chest, your voice cracking as you confessed, “I don’t want you to go.”

Kylo’s voice was low, solemn- lost. _hopeless._ “I know.” He laid a soft kiss against your neck, his hair tickling your face as he turned. His lips felt so strange- so kind now after the mottled bruises he’d left there. 

You held each other for what felt like a long time; you existed in that intimate, grieving moment alone. Breathing in tandem, feeling Kylo’s cum slowly leak back over his softening cock, not yet slipped free of your body. You could hear in his mind- and the quiet wondering if he should be clean when he appeared before his Master. And you knew.

A hot tear slid over your cheek as you nodded softly, found just enough willpower to work your way down and off his lap, winced as his soft cock slid out, his cum rolling freely down your thigh for a second. Your knees hurt- as with everything else really- as Kylo stood. You grabbed your pants from the floor and tried not to look to the half-melted mask behind you. 

You didn’t look at Kylo as you left the sanctuary. You stripped down in your bedroom and dropped your clothes next to the door to the sitting room. Kylo joined you, pulling his undersuit’s shirt over his head. For a moment, you stared at the pile of dark, mixed clothes after he dropped his. The mess wasn’t the problem- you could call a service droid later, of course. It just- didn’t feel right. 

Kylo’s hand found yours- warm and soft as he lead you away. You followed him to the ‘fresher, looked at yourself in the mirror while he turned on the water. Red and purple spots covered your neck, a dark few standing out already. You touched them, rubbed over the warm, bruised skin and hoped they would last. 

You stepped into the shower behind Kylo and sighed, breathed the steam in deeply. You watched half entranced as Kylo’s hair flattened out, darkened under the hot spray. You let the water run over your head, felt Kylo’s fingers stroke through your hair, push the now wet strands away from your face. You leaned against him, pressed your cheek against his chest. His thick arms settled around your waist, raised and stroked over your shoulders just once and kissed your forehead. 

 

You felt it when Kylo’s mind shifted away from you- scanned something else on the ship. He mumbled against your skin, “The shuttle is being prepared.” You swallowed back the complaint that rose to your lips- the awful desire to go and break any ship that would dare to take him away. But you couldn’t do that. You nodded softly, pulled away from him. 

You each cleaned yourself methodically, did your best to pretend this wasn’t happening today. Kylo wiped the remnants of your combined cum off abdomen while you watched Kylo’s cum drip out of your body and be washed off your thighs and down the drain. In a horrible way that left you even more concerned about the next few weeks- you wished you could keep part of him buried inside yourself. 

Kylo’s mind was quiet, resigned as he turned off the shower. You lingered inside, let the water drip off your body and waited for Kylo to return with a handful of towels. He wrapped one around your middle, laid another over your head to begin to dry your hair. 

You each toweled off in silence, nothing but the growing ache of loss echoing between your minds. It felt surreal, watching Kylo rub a gray towel across his body, scrunching it in his hair and somehow knowing this would be one of the last images you would have for him in a long time. And still, the thought came from him as well, mirrored the strange, foreign sentiment back to you. 

You both moved back to your bedroom, each of you retrieving a fresh set of robes, dressing awkwardly. It was too odd to think about it- how domestic it seemed. Just to watch the muscles in Kylo’s back flex as he pulled up his undersuit’s pants. You smiled, at least, seeing the red lines you had dug in and scraped there. You couldn’t help but smile-- he’d have something from you to match the copious, rather obvious spots around your neck that he’d left.

Something to look at and touch and _remember_ each day. At least until they healed and faded away. 

Would Kylo’s Master care about them? Was he- opposed to Kylo’s attachment to you? Would you be one of his problems to be corrected in his training? You sighed. What difference did it make now? There was nothing you could do. Nothing at all.

You pulled your own robes on, tried to find that quiet, thoughtless place as you layered the cloth over your shoulders and secured them around your waist. You made sure the high collar of your undersuit covered as much as possible. Before, you hadn’t cared if people saw the marks. But these- these felt different. More special- private.

Neither of you looked at Kylo’s commlink when it beeped. You didn’t need to hear what the message said- you already knew. Kylo’s ship was ready. His mind shifted, built himself up to what you were familiar with- his strong, powerful Knight’s side- as he clipped his saber to his belt. Ready to return to his master’s training.

You wanted to glare at the familiar, and yet just barely different, mask that emerged from the closet. You knew it from the vision, at least. The good one. More chromium rings but wider, spreader further around the mask’s face. The snout was flatter but poked further out from the shiny expanse of the rest of the mask. Completely new, not a dent on its perfect surface. 

Though, it felt rather obvious. Kylo had lost his mask on Starkiller and the _Finalizer_ was massive and obviously had the tools and ability to create and repair large parts of the ship and of the TIE squadrons. Had he created it himself or had he had someone else make it for him? Had he designed this one because of his dream or had it just turned out that way?

You both stared at it for a long moment before you could bring yourself to look to his face. You stepped closer to him- let him lower the mask, holding it with one hand- and you carefully felt the rough-sewn texture of his cowl under your fingers as you drew him down. You kissed him, soft and slow- just once- and rested your forehead against his. 

You were torn. You knew how pained Kylo’s eyes would be- you knew exactly how they would betray everything rolling off his emotional response. And yet- what if you never saw them again? Or never saw them- as they were now? What if they were- were cold and distant when he returned-- as emotionless and silent as he had been in that forest? 

You felt tears burning at you eyes again and wondered when you would finally run out of tears to cry. You met his gaze- and hurt. It was everything you had known it would be and so much worse; Kylo’s gaze skittering over your eyes, his eyes wet with his own unshed tears, his mind slipping out little thoughts of his own- noting the exact color of your irises, how your eyes turned red as you cried. 

You tried to keep your chin from trembling as you spoke- quiet, like a secret. “I love you,” 

A broken smile graced his face for a moment. He swallowed and you felt the difficulty as he tried, fought to bring that feeling to the forefront of his mind. It was nice, at least- to feel that. The warm, relaxing glow of his mind replacing the draining, frigid atmosphere of loss. “I- love you. Too.” 

You sniffed, smiled. Tried, fought to secure that as a memory. Kylo’s voice, so ruined and _lost_ and still so full of his adoration. You stepped away from him and rubbed your eyes; you didn’t watched as he slid the mask on, the seals clicking into place. You reached for his cowl and he obligingly lowered his head for you- let you pull the hood up over his mask. 

It was hard to believe he’d looked just like this when you had met. 

You shared another look, this time through his new mask’s dark visor. This was it. You bit your lip and nodded to him. 

You left your quarters following Kylo, hoping your eyes looked somewhat dry. You’d get through this. Kylo had seen it- you would see him again, that was all you could tell yourself. Whatever waited for you with the Knight who would train you and whatever happened to Kylo at Snoke’s base- it would be okay. In some impossible way, you would get through this.

You couldn’t bear to speak in the short trip to the shuttle bay, just felt his mind and tried not to cry. Tried not to begin bargaining with everything you had while the lift carried you down. You would do anything at all to keep him with you. He knew that didn’t he? That you would do anything he asked- anything Snoke asked if you could just stay with him. 

The doors opened and as you expected- General Hux was waiting for him. Two engineers and a pilot stood next to him, presumably the regular staff of the craft. Otherwise the hangar was mostly empty; a handful of techs and pilots checking on other shuttles- the command shuttle halfway deconstructed to be rebuilt in one corner of the hangar.

“As demanded, an omicron-class shuttle with no crewmembers.” Hux said, his voice carefully neutral despite his- well, honestly worried emotional response. More so for himself than Kylo, but he still was sure whatever waited Kylo would arguably be worse than whatever punishment was laid out for Hux. Even if he thought Kylo _was_ responsible for the loss of Starkiller. “Dare I ask when I will be getting my shuttle back, Ren?”

“Eight weeks.” Deeper, slightly more digitized, somehow. You tried not to show your shock at the change in his vocoder; if Hux noticed the new mask it didn’t register any new emotion from him. “When do the other Knights arrive?”

“Tomorrow; I’ll have nearly a full day free of your messes.” Hux’s eyes glanced to you for a moment- some part of him doubting you would be as troublesome as Kylo or this volatile Enki Ren would be. 

Kylo nodded, glanced to you for a moment- his mind brushing delicately against yours. Would saying a goodbye be proper? You weren’t sure. You’d spent the better part of the last day doing just that. Kylo’s mask tipped down- and then to the shuttle. His robes moved about him as he marched up to the long ramp-

And you couldn’t just let him go. _Wait!_ Your hand raised as if to reach for him-

He paused at the bottom of the ramp, turned back to you. You couldn’t help the tears in your eyes as you went to him, embraced him one more time. Wrapped your arms around him, held him as tightly as you could.

He moved to let go of you- pressed the gentle need for him to leave to your mind- and you caught the sides of his mask and brought him back down. _I love you._ Your pressed your lips to the smooth, flat surface of the snout of his mask- hoped that behind the durasteel he could feel it. _Come back to me._

Kylo froze for a moment, his hands settled over your arms. _I will. I promise._ And you backed away. You watched him turn, and move up into the unfamiliar ship, the ramp closing behind him.

The ship’s engines ignited and its wings spread for flight as the first traces of numbness took root in you. You reached for Kylo’s mind (numbly going through flight start-up; adjusting various controls; the knob cool and ridged under his gloves), brought the bond between you to life, determined to hold your connection as long as you could. You had to try. Someone’s hand settled against the small of your back and you jumped.

Hux didn’t meet your eyes, only watched the shuttle lift off the bay’s floor and slide through the ship’s atmos. Hux’s mind was- awkward, unused to- to trying to comfort someone. Whispering the little reasons for doing so- best not to have another upset Knight destroying his ship, after all. 

You pushed your mind from Hux’s- grappled to hold onto Kylo’s. You felt Kylo’s signature grow weaker each second- could _physically _feel him leaving you, a chill settling in your fingertips, suddenly shaking with the loss. Your access to his mind became harder and harder to find and, eventually, fading from your perception entirely.__

__You stared into the void of space past the fuzzy layer of atmos and shielding, half way expecting Kylo’s ship to return for any reason at all. Hux’s hand fell away eventually, his emotional response so much more saturated now without Kylo’s mind to distract you. No, Hux was still concerned- but now, more for you and whatever new trouble you would bring him. Beneath that- some sort of skewed camaraderie. All three of you were being punished in one way or another for the failure at Starkiller._ _

__You rubbed any lingering tears from your eyes and returned to your quarters- the whole ship feeling so unexpectedly silent without Kylo. In your quarters, your dirty robes hadn’t been picked up by a service droid yet. You stared at them for a moment- and couldn’t stop yourself._ _

__You picked up the ribbed shirt that Kylo had been wearing. You held it to your face, breathed in his scent. Your eyes burned again, a hole ripping itself into your chest, but nothing rolled down your cheeks. You crawled into your bed and held Kylo’s shirt close, pretended that somehow you could feel him next to you. His body, his mind- warm and receptive. You breathed in his scent with each shaking breath._ _

__And eventually_ _

__You slept._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Okay. I had no idea when I started this it would become so long or so very important to me. This is, by far, one of my most cherished accomplishments in life. Holy shit guys, we made it. Five and a half months later! 
> 
> As you may have noticed, LiaFLW is now part of a SERIES! So, no, despite the pain I hope I inflicted, it's not over! Kylo and our Knight-Apprentice Reader will be returning to us.
> 
> But first: I started this before Bloodline was released and I want to write a short interim piece to establish the canon and background for Kylo that I had in mind when I began writing this. It won't be super long (probably not over 10K), just something to establish that feeling.
> 
> After that? The next chronological piece will be posted September 21st, 2016 (eight weeks from today). It will be **entirely** canon divergent material and will be more... adventurous, sexually and in plot, than FLW. It will also feature me gloriously showing off my lovely OCs- like Xeni and Enki Ren! 
> 
> If you're interested in this, you can subscribe (I think?) to the series, so you'll get updates:
> 
>  
> 
> [Here!](http://archiveofourown.org/series/515401)
> 
>  
> 
> In the mean time, I'm going to be working on some oneshots and other things I need to finish. 
> 
> I hope you've all enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it! ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
> 
> As always, here's [My Tumblr](http://korpuskat.co.vu/)


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